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Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown Oral History Program Charlie Krafft ATTENTION: © Copyright Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. "Fair
Show moreWestern Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown Oral History Program Charlie Krafft ATTENTION: © Copyright Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. "Fair use" criteria of Section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976 must be followed. The following materials can be used for educational and other noncommercial purposes without the written permission of Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. These materials are not to be used for resale or commercial purposes without written authorization from Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. All materials cited must be attributed to Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. PP: My name is Paul Piper. I’m here with my colleague Tamara Belts to interview Charlie Krafft. And the date is August 21. CK: 2014. PP: So, Charlie, if I could begin by asking you to talk briefly about your life before you came to Fishtown, what you were involved in, and that part of your life? CK: Prior to arriving in La Conner, Washington, I was down in San Francisco doing psychedelic lightshows for a guy down there named Scott Bartlett. I believe he’s passed on, but he was an underground filmmaker who got involved with psychedelic lightshows, via the Merry Pranksters, which was Ken Kesey’s group of collaborators on that bus trip from I believe it was the Bay area to the New York World’s Fair. So Bartlett was a friend of a teacher at Skagit Valley Junior College, at the time, named Jim Kahn. Jim Kahn left the Skagit Valley JC in 1965 to go study with Ali Akbar Khan at Ali Akbar Kahn School of Music in Marin County. He wanted to learn Indian music, and somehow…Bartlett lived in Marin County and Jim knew Scott and told Scott that I was involved in psychedelic lightshows in Seattle, and so I started a lightshow troupe here, and then got hired by Bartlett to go down there and get an actual salary from him. And at a place called the Rock Garden, which was a club in the Mission district that was put together by a bunch of gangsters from North Beach, in conjunction with a gangster from Beirut, Lebanon. I call them gangsters because they weren’t hippies, and I was a hippie, and I was being hired by entertainment entrepreneurs. And in North Beach, it’s Italian, and I mean these guys are connected. And Charlie Henshee was from Lebanon, so somehow they made a deal with him, and he was a guy that was actually talking to Scott Bartlett and myself about going to Beirut and opening up a club there for them. And so what happened was that these North Beach guys saw the hippie thing going on in San 1 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Francisco and decided that they were going to try to cash in on it, and they built a club that didn’t last very long. I mean there was a lot of money invested in it and it was a nice enough place, but the kids just didn’t feel like it was anything that belonged to them, so it went out of business. After that, after I lost my job, I hung around for a little a while, and then I remembered La Conner, Washington because I had been taken there for dinner by Glenn Turner, who was an English teacher at Skagit. And I thought, Well that might be a nice place to settle down and start up a career as an artist because I was already interested in painting, and La Conner had a reputation as an art kind of colony. So I moved from San Francisco in 1967 to La Conner, Washington. I moved in with Jackie Green and her husband, whose name escapes me, Robert, out on the end of the Dodge Valley Road, and my girlfriend and I were an au pair for them, kind of. And then Fishtown was just down at the end of the Dodge Valley Road, and I started working on making one of those cabins down there habitable. It took me about three months to redo it so that I could actually use the stove inside and get in and out of there without collapsing through the rotten planking that had been built and then just left, you know. So that’s my story. PP: And you had set that up to use that cabin then with— CK: No, I was squatting— PP: Oh, you were squatting. CK: Here’s the story. I was -- Jim Kahn in 1965 had taken me out for a picnic to the Lees’ farm, which is the private property above the North Fork of the Skagit River. I mean, that scenic vista belongs to the Lee family. They were Valentines, and then they became the Lees through marriage. And so I already knew about Fishtown in 1965. And my move back to La Conner was into a houseboat that then as a result to being invited to live with Jackie and Robert Green, I thought, Well you know, Fishtown would be a nice place to live, and it’s also free. I could just go out there and squat. I ran into Martin Chamberlain, Jr., on one of my forays to the cabin as I was involved in repairing it. He was a classmate of mine at Roosevelt High School. Which I graduated from in 1965. So I said, Hey, Marty, what are you doing out here? He was on the trail. He said, Well my family owns it. And I said, Really? And he said, Yes. And I said, Well do you think I could live here? And he said, Well, I think that could be arranged, sure. And so, it turns out that the Chamberlain family owns half of Fishtown, and the Lee family owns the other half. PP: Oh okay. CK: And so I was—my cabin was on the Chamberlain half, and so Marty made it okay for me to continue to squat there. And in order for me not to be able to demand squatter’s rights after seven years, I had to sign a rental agreement with—well I didn’t sign anything really. I mean later we signed, they brought papers out. But in the beginning, it was just a one dollar a year token, no, no. One dollar a month token rent, paid to Ken Staffanson, who’s the farmer that farmed the Chamberlain land. And so as long as I’m paying something to somebody, I can’t get squatter’s rights. 2 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: So these cabins were originally, they were net shacks or net repair shacks? Or were they lived in by fishermen, or do you know much about the history of them? CK: They were, some were lived in by fishermen, some were net repair sheds and boat repair sheds. The boat repair and the net repair were two different sheds. My particular grouping of cabins had a boat repair shed and a net repair shed and a cabin to live in. And I’ve been told that they lived—some of those guys, in the early days, lived there year round. And I know that one fisherman family, the Wymans, he had his kids out there, and there was a swing left on the hill above the path to my place, that Keith Wyman had, you know, put up for his kids. And it was a gill netting operation. These guys were gill netting. PP: Was that in the 1940s or? CK: Yes. PP: Okay. CK: It was 1940s and it was right up until the, kind of right up until the Boldt Decision, when the Indians were given the right to use setbacks at the mouth of the river. And I think Boldt, Judge Boldt, decided that there was no more gill netting at the mouths of Washington state rivers for anybody but Indians. PP: And that was in the 1950s, right? CK: No. TB: 1974. PP: Oh, that’s right. CK: Was it? Okay. Well there were no fishermen living—there were-- When I found Fishtown, when I was led to Fishtown in 1965 by James Kahn, there were cabins. There were no year round fishermen. The cabins were weekender retreats, and they had been passed down in families, and so it was for duck hunting and recreational fishing only. Nobody was making a living in Fishtown on fish when I got there. PP: Okay. CK: And it might have been, I think, yes, you know, in 1965, down farther down the river there were guys, there were gill netters that would go out. I remember seeing their lights at night from Bald Island, in 1965, summer of 1965. And then the Boldt Decision happened, I think, and then these guys just threw in the towel. But no gill net families, no gill net guys in Fishtown proper in 1967 when I put my-It was 1967 when I first hammered this notice on the door of that cabin that belonged to Anton Wull that I took over. I met Wull’s relatives one day. They came out there and they told me I could stay too, so I had permission from the Wulls, and I also had permission from the Chamberlains. 3 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: And how many of these cabins were there? CK: In our section, the hippie section we had? PP: Yes. CK: We had two sections. We called our section, you know, the Asparagus Moonlight Nation, and then the other section was called Gasoline Alley, because they had generators. (laughter) And these guys were straights, and we were the hippies. PP: So was the Gasoline Alley section north or south? CK: Its south. PP: South. CK: Yes. And we got along okay with Gasoline Alley, ultimately. I mean we made friends with Gasoline Alley. At first they were a little bit wary of us, and I did get stopped on the boardwalk by a man with a shotgun in his hand telling me he didn’t want any hippies around there. And he didn’t know that I knew Martin Chamberlain. And he was not paying the Chamberlains, but he was on their property. Those guys in Gasoline Alley didn’t start paying rent to the Chamberlains until after the logging situation happened, you know, when we had to protest. PP: Yes, I want to get to that. So were they living there already when you came? CK: They were living there on weekends and during the summer. PP: Okay, so they were more of the recreational— CK: It’s recreational, all along, up until you hit, you know, our section of Fishtown, which is up and over that knoll and then down. And how many cabins were up and over the knoll and down? There was my cabin, Bo Miller built a cabin, Paul Hansen’s cabin, and then Hans Nelsen and Art Jorgensen’s cabin. So, one, two, three, four. And then a couple of outbuildings that were already there in my section, and then a bathhouse that Bo built, and an outhouse that he built too, and I think that’s about it. PP: Okay. Fishtown has been called by some an artists’ commune and by others a group of anarchists living in proximity. What’s your take on what the structure of the community was and/or how it evolved over the years you were there? CK: Well it was a community and not a commune. We didn’t live in each other’s laps. We each of us had our own dwelling. The overarching philosophical glue that bound us was Buddhism, and not anarchism. Unless you want to split hairs about Northwest Zen Buddhism and left leaning socialist politics, a la Gary Snyder. Yes, we were inspired by Gary Snyder. Yes, we were inspired visually, I was at 4 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED least, by Morris Graves, who leaned towards the East. Bo Miller had been to India, and I had been to India. Paul Hansen had been in a monastery situation down in Gold Mountain Monastery in San Francisco, studying with a Chan master down there. Chan being the Chinese version of Zen. And so, we were all very interested—we were all, I mean, the men. I don’t think the women cared much about it really. But the men were sort of like studying Eastern philosophy and other alternative religious philosophies. I mean, we can—theosophy, you know, maybe, and that kind of thing, New Age, the New Age stuff. But basically we were kind of serious about Buddhism. And we actually practiced zazen on occasion. We weren’t real strict about it, but we did, you know, we sat for days on end on a couple of occasions. And we invited—oh, listen, we invited scholars—I invited Robert Ektall, who was at the University of Washington in the Far East Asia, Far East studies department, to come out and lecture us on Tibetan Buddhism, and he did. He came out there and gave a lecture. And then I was sort of responsible for bringing Baba Ram Dass, to Skagit College for a lecture. And he was all set to come out there and make an appearance, but he biffed out on it, and that was kind of embarrassing for me because all these hippies were waiting to hear Ram Dass, you know. PP: And he never showed. CK: Yes, he never showed up. PP: He walked out of a few— CK: He gave his lecture at Skagit, but then he wanted to drive back to—he wanted to be driven back to Seattle. I said, Yes, but we got people out in Fishtown waiting to hear you. We’re going to have a party out there. He said, I don’t want to do it, I’m out of here. (laughter) PP: Interesting. CK: I was in India with him. PP: So that’s where you met him originally. CK: I met him in New Delhi, India. PP: Okay. CK: I mean, that’s another story, but yes, I met him in India. I attended one of his lectures as Richard Alpert, at the Wilsonian Hotel, in the University District, and then he went to India, became Baba Ram Dass. When he was Ram Dass, I actually spoke with him and hung out with him. But I just attended that Alpert lecture. PP: In terms of the interest in Buddhism then and I guess Chinese work in particular, I mean, much of the work that was done there strikes me as being very influenced by Chinese Tang Dynasty and Zen and 5 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Buddhism and these sorts of things, whether it was the writing or painting or sculpture or whatnot, would you concur with that, that that was kind of a very common theme? CK: Yes. Paul Hansen was translating Chinese poetry, and actually had gone to the Monterey—when he was in the army, he went to the Monterey language school, I guess, and learned Chinese, and so he had been studying Chinese at the University of Washington, and then got involved with this practice in San Francisco, and then ended up back in Seattle and drifted up to Fishtown. So yes, I mean, he was immersed in it. And my immersion in it was basically through the artwork of Morris Graves and the poetry of Gary Snyder, and then the explications coming from Alan Watts, and I liked the visual stuff. And Sund was getting involved in it too. I mean, he was sort of drifting. Sund had met some Tibetans in Seattle, you know those, the Sakyapa family came here. They were the first Tibetans out of Tibet that were brought to the University of Washington. Jigdal Sakya was the head of the Sakya school, and his wife is the Dalai Lama’s sister, and they brought their guru to Seattle. Robert had met the guru, and so he was pretty impressed with the Tibetan side of things. And my trips to India to study Vedanta sort of, were part of that mix too. And then Bo Miller, you know, I ran into him in India. I met him through Sund, and then we bumped into each other again in India, so it’s a-- I would say, Buddhism was the overarching philosophical umbrella, but there was some Advaita Vedanta in there too, because both me and Miller had gone to looking to Vedanta. And I was pretty hopped up on Vedanta even before Fishtown because there was a Vedanta Society center here in Seattle, and I knew all about Ramakrishna, who was the kind of like this avatar of the Advaita Vedanta movement in the 1800s when, you know, what’s his name, Vivekananda came to America. PP: (Inaudible, talking over each other) --Hindu school. CK: Hindu, yes. So let’s just say Hindu. PP: Yes. CK: You know, I mean it was—but basically we were Buddhists, because you know the landscape looked Buddhist. It looks like a Chinese scroll, the whole thing, so. We were very inspired. PP: Yes, that’s apparent. The other thing that was apparent to me is the diversity of work that you folks did. I mean, it’s not like, people were maybe primarily a writer, primarily this, that and the other thing, but it sounds like you all did everything. I mean, kind of engaged in writing and drawing and calligraphy and painting and— CK: And architecture. PP: And architecture. 6 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CK: Really, you got to remember that Bo Miller was like this Eagle Scout that kept the whole thing together. The rest of us were just sitting around and dreaming, you know, and Miller’s out there all the time actually keeping the boardwalk together — (laughter) — you know, he built Steve’s tower— PP: Yes. CK: I mean, so Bo Miller was the engineer. PP: How do you account for that though? I mean, do you feel like it was just kind of part of the age that people were just trying any kind of artistic endeavor that they could, or was it—it wasn’t a conscious thing was it? CK: Yes, it was conscious. PP: Was it? CK: Yes, because in those days, I mean, this was an alternative lifestyle that we could just slip into. It wasn’t even, you didn’t even have to do any pre-planning. It was all just there for you if you wanted to take it, and that’s what we did. It’s a different now, you know, where it’s a smaller world, and there’s more and more regulations and fear of the other, and we just sort of slipped into this thing. That’s all. And we were-- I made a concerted effort to keep non-creative people away from Fishtown. I mean, people had heard about Fishtown in the counterculture, all the way down to San Francisco because there was a lot of draft dodging going on, and people were making their way up to Vancouver, BC, to get out of the United States to avoid the draft. And somehow, we got draft dodgers and others looking for Fishtown and actually finding it, because it was a countercultural community they heard about. Some of these people are just deadbeats and hangers on and criminals, and you could tell right away, you know. I could tell that I didn’t want them around if they were going to be a problem. They sort of felt-- there was this thing in the air, where among the hippies, of sharing, and if you didn’t give them what they wanted, you were not being a good hippie. And a lot of people just thought that they should be issued a place in that community just because they had long hair or, they had a beard or a mustache, or came dressed in buckskins or something. And I could sense, I don’t know. I mean, I’m not psychic or anything, but I just didn’t want anybody that wasn’t going to be creative to be out there. I sort of issued cabins to everybody else as they came out to see me. I was the first out there. PP: And you were kind of considered, I mean, I’ve heard the term mayor of Fishtown applied to you. CK: Yes. Well that’s just because I arrived first. I was the first guy to like make a cabin livable. Everybody else did what they did, put glass back in the windows, repaired the stoves, get the outhouse situation squared away, and that kind of thing. I was just the first guy that thought, Hmm, well this is going to be a cheap place, you know, to land. And then, Oh, that Charlie Krafft’s up in, you know, this 7 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED cabin on the Skagit River, let’s go see him this weekend and drop some acid. And so that’s what they did. And as they did that, I mean, these people expressed an interest in leaving Seattle and moving up and having a lifestyle like the one they saw me living, and then I’d say, Oh yes, well we can, okay, take that cabin. PP: Yes. But you also seem like you had a sense of responsibility almost for the place and for what was happening there, right? Just in reference to being able to kind of sense that some people didn’t belong and shouldn’t be there. CK: Yes, I did sense that. In fact there were a lot of visitors that came. I mean, I put up with them until I couldn’t anymore, and then they’d get the drift. You know, it was a question of, How much work do you want to do to stay there? PP: Yes. CK: That was one of the things. I mean, you had to chop your wood, you had to do all this stuff just to make it comfortable for yourself. If they couldn’t do that, and then they were off to some other place where it was easier to land. PP: Yes. CK: So that was one of the criteria. If you don’t want to work, you might as well just, you know, get lost. (laughter) PP: Could you talk a little bit about, and this may be impossible, but what your sense of what an average day in Fishtown was like? CK: The day was your own. You could do whatever you wanted, unless you were behind, like I always was, on the wood situation. I never had enough wood, and I always let it go until the last minute, and I always got stuck at the end of the winter burning furniture. (laughter) PP: Oh no. (laughter) CK: Yes. So we had a garden, and you could go garden, you could go foraging for wood, you could sit down and paint, which I was mostly involved in, or translate or write poetry. Bo Miller was always hammering away, building something or chasing his kids around. It was—an average day, I mean, it was average—it wasn’t the same for everybody. My average day, you know, I mean if I wanted to-- You know, I just made it up day by day. PP: Yes. CK: It was made up as we went along. PP: That’s pretty great. 8 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CK: Yes, it really was. It was great. That was what I remember most about it, was this time situation. And oh, there’s another thing about time, that it’s different in the country out there than it is in the city. So I would go to the city to take care of business, because I was selling my art in the city, and seeing friends in the city. I’m from the city. It would take me 24 and 48 hours to come down from the city, and then drift back into this extended river time, where it was, you know, kind of lazy. Lazy river, you heard the, (singing..) Up the lazy river where the noonday sun… Or something how that goes? PP: Yes. CK: That’s the way it was. This lazy river. And so you could do whatever you wanted to do, including, if you wanted to just get wasted, you could just stay wasted, which I was famous for. (laughter) PP: (laughter) How many people do you figure, and I know there were waves of people that went through Fishtown. And I think it was Maggie Wilder that told me that there was this kind of original Fishtown that ended with the, kind of the timber thing. CK: Yes. PP: I want to talk about that. But during the section of time, maybe a 1967, 1968 to the mid-1970s or whatever, what were the most people that were living down there at one time? CK: I think that I once counted 14 people, including kids. PP: Okay. CK: But don’t hold me to that. PP: I won’t. CK: I don’t remember exactly. PP: Yes. And was Robert considered -- I mean he really didn’t technically live in Fishtown, but did he come by a lot and was definitely part of the mix and whatnot? CK: Yes, yes. He was a very—Robert was the elder statesman of this group because he was older than we were, he was a very serious poet living the poet lifestyle, and we were interested in poetry of course, and everybody kind of deferred to Robert, his seniority. But there were problems with Robert because he was a prima donna, and collaborative efforts that Fishtown did, Robert backed off of because he couldn’t control them. We got tired of asking him to be part of like those chapbooks that we issued and things like that, because getting him to do stuff was just too much work after a while, and we just gave up. (laughter) He was always late with everything, and then there was always a problem with the way we had it arranged 9 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED that he didn’t like. So he was our friend. He was up and you know he came up to see us and talk to us and party with us, and we went down to see him. But after a while, we just let Robert be Robert, because he needed his own support group around him, and we couldn’t give—we gave it up to a fashion, and then that was it, we weren’t going to give anymore. PP: Yes. CK: Then he’d find somebody else to sort of help him out. So I would say that Robert was the chief of the Asparagus Moonlight Nation. PP: So tell me about that name. How did that name generate? CK: It was a code word for marijuana. PP: Interesting. (laughter) CK: (laughter) Robert called marijuana asparagus moonlight. And he would come up to see if anybody had any asparagus moonlight when he ran out of it. PP: He probably would have been amazed that the state today [legalized it] … (laughter) CK: (laughter) Robert, at first when I met him, was anti-marijuana. And there’s a story about me going down to a poetry reading of John Logan’s at the, I believe it was Seattle University, and there was an after party for Logan at Robert’s house and within Ravenna Park, and Scott Williams lit up a joint, and Robert kicked him out of his house. Scott was a teacher up at the Skagit JC. And then Robert got on— somebody turned Robert on finally. He was staunchly against marijuana and beatniks and the whole business, you know, and then I don’t know who turned him on, but after he got turned on, that was it for Robert. He was a stoner from then on. (laughter) But I’ll never forget that night when Robert kicked Scott Williams out of his house for smoking a joint. He said, You can smoke that outside. And Scott went outside to smoke it and he never came back that night. PP: He was pissed off. CK: Well, something happened to him. I mean, he showed up on Monday at school with a black eye, and he never told us what happened— PP: Wow. CK: --after he left Robert’s party to go smoke a joint in the ravine. I don’t know what happened to him. He wouldn’t say. It was a mystery. And he’s dead. He died with this mystery. How did you get that black eye after you left Robert’s party? He’d say-- He never told us. PP: Interesting. 10 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CK: I don’t know if he got rolled downtown or something. PP: Yes. CK: He got himself home, you know, we partied on until the early morning hours, and Scott got himself home. I believe he drove us down there or something. I don’t remember exactly how he got back. But we didn’t go back with Scott. Anyway. I’ll never forget that. You can smoke that outside. (laughter) PP: Yes. What was the relationship with La Conner like with Fishtown? And let me just kind of provide a little more substance. Did you folks go into La Conner a lot, like did you go in every night— CK: Of course we did. PP: --and hang out at bars and drink or that sort of thing? CK: No. PP: Or was it more going in out of necessity to buy groceries or? CK: We had our friends in La Conner. We had our necessities to get. The bars, I personally went on Friday nights and Wednesdays because that was dime night and you could get a schooner of, let’s see, dime night, you could get a glass of beer for a dime. You know, a schooner of beer for a dime. And pitchers were $2.50 or something like that. And there was bands on Wednesdays and Fridays, so you know, I was looking for girls, among other things, and looking also to get lit up. And so we would go by necessity, and then for companionship and camaraderie. PP: And what was it like getting there? I mean, could you drive? CK: Yes, you could drive. You could drive or you could—I hitchhiked, you know, or walked. I would walk. When the bars closed, many a night, I walked all the way from La Conner out to Fishtown. PP: How far was that? CK: It’s about a mile and a half or maybe two, but you know I was drunk and it didn’t bother me in the least. I just put one foot ahead of the other, and in a while I’d be home. And it was fine. PP: Yes. CK: And if somebody was going that way, they’d drop me off. I did it a lot. I had a car. I had access to a car, I would drive it in, but I did a lot of hitchhiking, and I knew, man, who was going to pick me up and who wasn’t. I could just tell by their trucks and their cars, you know, That’s him, he’s not going to pick me up. PP: You get to know that. 11 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CK: Yes. Indians would always pick you up. I’ll tell you that right now, the Swinomish, they’d stop and pick you up. And then hippies of course would stop and pick you up. PP: Yes. CK: Richard Gilkey would always stop for me. He was a painter that lived in Conway. PP: He’s pretty well known. CK: Yes he sure is. PP: We talked a little bit about kind of the Buddhist aesthetic of the art there. Could you call Fishtown, especially looking back on it, as a school of art, I mean? CK: No. Not really. We didn’t develop anything. There was no manifesto written. It was just a, I just call it a pillar of fog on the fen. PP: A pillar of fog on the fan? CK: On the fen. PP: On the fen. CK: A fen is a green spread, you know, and it was—the reference is to something that was kind of there and gone, you know. A pillar of fog on the fen. There was no institution left. There’s no real record of whatever we did that exists in a real context. It all has to be gathered by that curator at the Northwest Museum, and then it got sent back to its owners, and it’s probably not going to be reassembled again in our lives, I don’t think. PP: Do you feel, or how do you feel that period of time affected your life as an artist? I mean, do you feel that the work you do now – I mean, can you see how it had an influence on you? CK: Of course, yes. I got inured to having that much time of my own to do what I wanted. In 1980, I left and came to Seattle, and tried to live the same way only in an urban situation, and I woke up at about the age of 40 and I thought, What am I going to do with myself? You know, I don’t have any other skills. And so rather than go back to school or retrain myself somehow, I thought, Well, I’ll just either starve or continue being an artist. So I made sacrifices so that I would be able to have the time I need to make art. I took day jobs doing this and that to make ends meet, but basically I got spoiled in the 1960s by the 1960s, and I’m in the 2000s now living like I was in the 1960s. I mean, it’s a lot more expensive, but I mean look at it, it’s the same kind of shabby, boho existence that I had then. It’s just that, and that’s the way I like it, you know. I can’t stand formica (laughter), but the older the better. If it smells like mildew, let me in. (laughter) 12 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: Yes. Well, you’ve got a really comfortable place. I mean, that’s one of the beauties of older places that get lived in and settled in, is they’re comfortable. CK: Yes, well. I know. And I don’t own this. This is a rental unit. I mean, this is kind of my style. And this is what it looked like in Fishtown, except we didn’t have electricity. PP: Did anybody—you probably didn’t have generators out there. CK: Yes, well there was generators, but nobody wanted them because the noise bothered us. Astrida Onat came out there one year with her group to do the digging, the archeological excavating, and she wanted to use a water pump to wash away some of the hillside where they were digging, and she hooked up a generator. And we just went crazy. We said, God damnit, shut that thing off. It’s just making too much noise. We can’t meditate. (laughter) So she—we made a deal with her that said she’d only run it on certain hours. That was one of the big wars, Astrida Onat has a generator. PP: Hah. CK: Do you want to get into the big controversy which nobody wants to talk about? PP: Yes, I definitely want to talk about it. I just want to see if there’s anything else. CK: Ask me what happened to me. PP: We can go there. So in terms of that era in Fishtown ending, could you talk a little bit about that? CK: It ended for me in 1980. We’re talking about me. I’m not talking about anybody else. I got a job as a guard at the Seattle Art Museum. On one of my forays into town, I applied for this job, and I thought, Well, I’ll go down to Seattle and I’ll work for a while as a guard. And they put me on the guard force there, and I used to patrol the museum, and got an apartment off Broadway, and a studio down in Chinatown where I could paint. In the course of that— and I left my cabin locked up in Fishtown and I thought I’d use it on weekends. Well I didn’t really avail myself of it that often during that year and the next year. My cabin was finally given to somebody else by Martin Chamberlain, Jr. I lost everything I left up there. And it was kind of—I didn’t protest. I didn’t do anything. I was sort of, I had stuff going on here, and I couldn’t keep stuff going on there, and so this guy moved in and he took over the cabin. And I thought, 13 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED Well it’s better to have somebody in that cabin than nobody, because they’ll keep it up out of the mud. He was there for, I believe, you know—and I can’t remember his name. Do you know his name? PP: No. CK: I don’t either. PP: I’ll see if I can find out. CK: His wife had gotten in touch with me on Facebook though. He built a boat out there, and they ended up in Texas with it. But anyway, I went up there once and he wasn’t home, and his lifestyle was a little bit different. Richard. We called him Avocado Pit Richard, because he painted—he carved avocado pits. (laughter) PP: That’s a niche. (laughter) CK: Avocado Pit Richard, that’s—you know, we had names for these people, like Black Dog Alan and Avocado Pit Richard and Dirty Dan Stopy. (laughter) Everybody had a moniker, you know, in the community. PP: So what was your moniker? CK: What did they call me? They called me the Ether Bunny. (laughter) Because I sniffed ether, if I could get my hands on it, and volatile solvents. PP: Really? CK: Yes, I liked toluene, and I used to get it at Carl’s Paints, and I’d sniff that shit and-- (laughter) –I’d go crazy. So it’s like Buddhism with airplane glue. (laughter) PP: That’s one of the stranger mixes I’ve heard of. CK: Yes, it was an interesting mix. So, Richard, whose last name I don’t remember, he was the guy that ended up in my cabin. I believe he was there for six or seven years after I left. PP: So I heard, I mean— CK: I never went back. PP: I heard a story that there was this dispute over logging that I guess it was the Chamberlains, but I could have these facts all (inaudible, talking over each other). CK: Yes. 14 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: And that at some point, either the Chamberlains or the Lees -- it was the Lees, right? -- got pissed off and came in and just razed all the cabins. CK: Oh that’s the Chamberlains. PP: The Chamberlains. CK: The Lees never— PP: Okay. CK: The Lees can’t raze cabins in our section. That was Chamberlains. PP: Chamberlains, okay. CK: See the deal was, it’s actually tide lands, it’s state tide lands. They had some sort of ownership over the right of access, and that’s how they succeeded in getting us evicted, getting them—I was gone. PP: So this happened after— CK: After me. PP: What date? CK: 1984, wasn’t it? PP: 1984. CK: I believe. I got the whole, I have an entire collection of information downstairs about the protest, if you want to look at it. PP: Okay. CK: I have to return it to Bo Miller. I had it digitized. It’s the entire record of this protest, including photographs and posters that people made for fundraising to pay the lawyers. We-- It’s downstairs. Are you going to go talk to Bo Miller? PP: I’m talking to him next Wednesday. CK: Why don’t you take these, take this to him, okay? PP: Sure, okay. CK: For me. 15 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: Alright. CK: Great. I got to find it now. I got the disk, but anyway. That’s one of my things I got to get back to him. I hope he gives it to the Skagit Valley Historical Museum because it’s a great collection of ephemera about the protest. PP: We’d love to have it, if he was good with that. CK: Yes, okay. Let me go down there and look after our interview. What was the question, and I’ll get back to it? PP: Just how that whole dispute evolved, and then— CK: Okay, here’s the, my version of the facts are these. The Chamberlain family has a revolving trust. Members of the Chamberlain family sit at the head of the trust each year. They chair the meetings of how they’re going to handle the income on their land. And one of the husbands of a Chamberlain was a developer in Arizona, I believe, named Christopher Sheaf? I don’t remember. But anyway, he decided that the land wasn’t making enough money for the family, and so he was the one that wanted to log. They had every right really to log their own property, but we felt it was a crime against beauty. So we mounted this protest. And I called Earth First and got them involved, the Bellingham chapter of Earth First. They came down and they—it sort of kicked off this idea of, you know, protest. I was living in Seattle and I didn’t really have too big a hand in it, other than getting in touch with Earth First, who then got in touch with these other people and taught them civil disobedience techniques on how to stop logging. Ultimately what happened was Gilkey went to jail one day. They just rounded everybody up out there, and they were protesting off the Dodge Valley Road. They had fires, it was kind of a vigil during this gyppo logging operation, and I got a picture of Gilkey being led off in handcuffs to the Mount Vernon jail. They got bailed out the next day, but ultimately the Chamberlain family succeeded in getting the Skagit County sheriff to evict everybody. And after they were served eviction papers, Staffanson and his son came out and pulled all the cabins down with tractors along the dike. They just hooked it up to the joists and just pulled them down. And they said, that’s the end of the hippies. We don’t want any more trouble from you fuckers. PP: But the cabins on the Lee side were— CK: They stayed because-- Oh no, there was still some cabins on the Chamberlain side that stayed. You see the Lees’ property only starts at the—you know how that rock is, you come around the bend? PP: Yes. 16 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CK: That rock is the Lees’ property. Anything that way from the rock, as you come around the bend, belongs to Chamberlain, and then those guys in Gasoline Alley, they all had a big problem with Chamberlain, and they had never been paying any rent. But now they’re paying the Chamberlain family trust an annual rent. I think everybody, and I think Maggie even pays it, right? PP: I assume so. CK: I think everybody does. PP: When did that house get built? CK: That was Martin Chamberlain, Jr.’s house. He built it in high school, about a first-- I mean, that was his grandmother’s property, and her house burnt down. And there was a shell of a shed there, and then John Bisbee and Marty Chamberlain, they were kids, high school kids, and both of them lean toward architecture. They were both really interested in architecture. They built that A-frame that Steve Herold took over and Maggie lives in. They built it themselves as kids. PP: Impressive. CK: Yes. You’ve seen the Fishtown books? PP: I have all of them I think. CK: Well there’s Bisbee’s pictures of it, you know, in there, his drawings. And John Bisbee runs out-Have you talked to him? You should. PP: I haven’t talked to him. CK: Well he runs a shop down in Chinatown. PP: Oh, he does? CK: Yes, he does. Kobo’s, Higo’s— PP: That gallery? CK: Yes, that’s his. He goes-- No, Kobo at Higo, on Jackson and about 5th, 6th, 6th and Jackson. PP: Kobo at Higo? CK: Yes, Kobo, K-O-B-O, at Higo. PP: H-I-G-O? 17 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CK: Yes. Higo’s was a ten cent store run by these Japanese people. PP: Okay. CK: And John’s married to a Japanese woman. There’s two Kobos in Seattle. One’s up on Roy, across from the Harvard Exit Theatre, that’s Kobo. And then there’s Kobo at Higo, that’s downtown. There’s two. PP: Didn’t know that. CK: And John was Marty Chamberlain’s best friend. PP: Oh. CK: And Marty Chamberlain’s family are the people that own the property. PP: Right. Who were some other early— CK: Keith Brown-- Are you talking about Fishtowners? PP: Yes. CK: Keith Brown, the guy that’s—he’s been put away. He’s down in Steilacoom forever. PP: The mental hospital? CK: Yes. PP: What about Art Jorgensen— CK: Art Jorgensen— PP: He killed himself or got killed— CK: No, he died of a heart attack. PP: A heart attack. CK: He died of a heart attack during the Fishtown regatta. PP: Okay. But it was out on the river, right? CK: He was out on the river. 18 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: Okay. CK: He was sailing. TB: 2001, I think. PP: So he and Robert were the only—I mean, everybody else is alive as far as you know? CK: No, Clyde Sanborn was kind of a member or our extended river rat community. You know, there was Fishtown, and then there were others that lived on the river. We were all river rats. PP: Okay. CK: And Clyde’s dead. He was a poet. He died, he drowned one night leaving, trying to get home from the 1890’s probably or the La Conner Tavern. PP: That’s terrible. CK: Yes. Who else? You know the women should be contacted too. PP: That’s on the agenda. CK: Elizabeth Mabe, Gul, Ivory Jane Waterworth, and Sandy Jorgensen. These are women that actually lived with us out there. And nobody ever asks them any questions. PP: Well I’d love to. CK: How they did it? TB: Is Martin Chamberlain still alive? CK: Martin Chamberlain, Jr., is. Senior died. TB: Yes, okay, but you should think about getting his side of the story. PP: Definitely. CK: Yes. PP: Yes, I’d love to. I have a budget to do five initial, but I’ll get more next year. CK: Okay. 19 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: So I wanted to do you, and Paul I did already, and Steve we’re doing today, and then Bo, and then Eric and Hans Jensen, I believe. CK: Nelsen. PP: Nelsen. CK: Yes, Hans was up there, at first. He was not—he rebuilt Art Jorgensen’s cabin. PP: Okay. CK: And prior to that, he had a cabin that burnt down on Ika Island, so he was up there really early. And so was Tom Skinner. Do you know Tom Skinner? PP: I don’t. I’ve heard a reference— CK: Okay, he lives in Edison. PP: In Edison. CK: Yes, he was like the first person that actually I issued a cabin to. PP: And is he a practicing artist? CK: No, not really. He’s a school teacher by dint of his credentials, but he’s a fisherman by trade, I think. PP: That brings up another point too that I meant to ask about. Did you folks— CK: Dan Stokely. PP: Dan Stokely. CK: He’s also in Edison. He was in Fishtown. And he was on Shit Creek too with Robert. He was on Shit Creek before Robert ever moved there. PP: In that same house? CK: No, in a cabin that was nearby. PP: Okay. Did you folks fish a lot or get food from the river at all? You talked about gardening some— CK: You know, I had ducks given to me by duck hunters occasionally. I had salmon given to me by salmon fishermen. I caught my own Dolly Varden. I don’t know if there are any dollies left. But no, I 20 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED didn’t go out there and—I didn’t live off what I could forage, you know that. I bought my groceries in La Conner. PP: Because there was that whole back to the land movement— CK: Yes, but it wasn’t that far back, for us. PP: OK. CK: We didn’t raise any animals and slaughter them. We got our milk up at the Lees’ farm. We got fresh milk. PP: And eggs probably. CK: No, I don’t think she sold eggs. I don’t remember buying any eggs from her. Maybe. But she did sell milk by the gallon, fresh, and 99 cents a gallon with a great big bunch of cream on top. And then, you know, during the, whatever season it was, if it was duck season, I knew these people after a while, and they would just lay ducks on me, you know, they had extra ducks. And then sometimes, I remember some Indians like laying a big salmon on me one time. And I used to fish for king salmon out in front of my dock. And one time we got a sturgeon given to us. PP: Wow! CK: It was immense. Keith Brown, somebody gave him a sturgeon that they’d caught. PP: That’s amazing. CK: It was amazing! And it was big. PP: Yes, those things are huge. CK: And what else was out there? That was about it. We only grew vegetables. We didn’t have any animals. PP: I don’t really have anything else. Do you have anything Tamara? TB: I think it’s just interesting, this is probably maybe a really dumb question, but you were calling yourselves hippies, but did you call yourself hippies in the beginning? And at what point did people themselves identify themselves as hippies versus people oftentimes refer to long haired people as being hippies, but did you— CK: I called myself a hippie. TB: You did? Okay, back then. Okay. 21 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED CK: Because, you know, that word hippie was coined by Herb Caen—down in San Francisco. He also coined the term beatnik, believe it or not. And I was coming from San Francisco, where, you know, Herb had started calling all the long haireds hippies, and he’d made the distinction between the beats and the hippies. It was a generational gap. My career choice in high school was beatnik, and I went down in 1965 to Berkeley to hang out with the poets at the—it was called the, it was a poetry conference at the University of California at Berkeley, and everybody was there. Ginsberg was there, and all these beats, you know. It was a big deal. It was a big pow-wow for beats. And shortly after that was when Herb Caen coined hippies. So I left San Francisco with the moniker attached to me because I wasn’t old enough to be a beatnik. So it didn’t bother me, plus there was a real divide between these young people with long hair and the Skagit Valley farming community and the fishermen, and there was only a couple of people in that community who were— If you talk to Tom Robbins, he’ll tell you that, you know, there was a few people up there that were open minded enough to make friends with beats and hippies, because there were beats up there. I mean, like Graves had been up there with his beard. They thought he was a communist. And then Tom Robbins had come up. He’s a little bit older than I am. And then people older than Tom Robbins that were leaning towards Bohemia, you know, writers, poets, artists, had been coming to La Conner since Graves and Anderson. Well Anderson arrived after Morris Graves. And so some of these guys up there were used to having Bohemians, and we can call Bohemians beats. And then when the hippies showed up, well that was fine too. But there were other people that didn’t want anything to do with us because they figured we were communists, which means, you know, a lot of different things to different people. But basically just antiAmerican revolution, you know, reactionaries. So the John Birch Society, they’re all up in, like Lynden, Washington, they had a, oh man, you know, Barry Goldwater for president going on up there. (laughter) Even more reactionary than that, the farmers… PP: Yes. Was there any violence against you guys? CK: Just that guy that come out with the shotgun on the boardwalk one day and said, No farther. And I said, Okay, fine. And then, you know, I walked out. But I already knew that, once he left that I was in like Flynn because of the Chamberlains, you know, let me stay there. And he couldn’t stop me because he wasn’t paying any rent to the Chamberlains, and they could-- I mean, he wasn’t going to shoot me or anything. He just wanted me to know that, you’re trespassing, and who are you, what are you doing out here? And I got a beard, right? I made friends with everybody eventually on that, in Gas Alley. Clara Lowe and all these, hardcore rednecks—hardcore rednecks. They weren’t rednecks at all, but we had thought they were, opposed to us. I mean, we charmed them into accepting us because we were helping take care of their property when they’re not there, and keeping it, you know, people from busting in and swiping stuff, which was 22 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED happening all the time. It’s just, I mean, it’s empty, people would decide you know, kids, a lot of kids do that. TB: And you weren’t very political though, right? I mean, you were very into— CK: I was apolitical, pretty much. TB: Yes, it sounded like it. You didn’t say anything about there being a lot of politics associated with your group. It was more— CK: No, we were, listen, we were—there’s a difference too with this hippie thing, because I’ve been going back and checking it out very, very seriously. There was the political faction, and then there was the hedonist faction, and we were the hedonists. And by hedonism, I mean drugs and metaphysics, not politics. We wanted to be enlightened, but we didn’t want to change the system. We just wanted to get, close to some sort of understanding of ourselves, not change what was going on in Washington D.C. We could care less about that. Just leave us alone basically was our attitude. Nobody was out there-You know, Barbara and Clayton James were always getting everybody to sign signatures for petitions about nuclear power and let’s get a Democrat in at the city council. Nah. We couldn’t be bothered, you know, to sign their petitions. I mean, some people went in and got involved in Mount Vernon politics, you know. I can’t remember the names of all these left-wing, ecofriendly, folk music, banjo playing, and Marxists bullshit that was going on (laughter) with the radicalized hippies, but we didn’t, I didn’t want to have anything to do with that, myself. I mean, God bless you to keep the nuclear power out, but don’t ask me to volunteer anytime knocking on doors. PP: Okay. CK: And here’s another thing, that Steve Herold’s going to tell you that we— I made a poster for this Asparagus Moonlight show, and I called it a neo-Wobbly colored confab, and Steve Herold was a card carrying Wobbly. And so he just loves the idea that we were all Wobblies out there. Well, I didn’t really know what a Wobbly was when I said neo-Wobbly. I knew that they were kind of reactionaries and they wanted to unionize the mills and all that. Harold’s a committed damn Wobbly, to this day, and he’ll tell you that we’re anarchists, we’re Wobblys, we’re left, we’re Marxists, you know. Okay, Steve, you can be that. (laughter) I wasn’t really. I’m sorry I said neo-Wobbly. (laughter) PP: I bet. CK: He got on Maggie Wilder’s film and started preaching politics, and I wanted to punch him, because I’m on the complete other end of the spectrum from where he is today. I am so far reactionary to the right that, you know, people don’t even want to talk to me anymore. (laughter) PP: I do. (laughter) So, you mentioned Maggie Wilder’s film. That’s not the film about— CK: Robert. 23 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: --Sund. Oh it is. CK: I think, you know, this is another film that Steve’s talking about. This is the film that’s being prepared by another person. PP: Oh yes. CK: What’s the name of that guy? PP: I forget, but Kathleen Moles told me about it. CK: Yes, and then Steve’s on there, he’s got some footage that he’s prepared. And Steve is talking about Wobblys on that. PP: Okay. CK: But not, he doesn’t do it on Maggie’s film. PP: I contacted the guy, and he’s bogged with— CK: Yes, he’s a wooden boat maker, and he’s a friend of mine, and I can’t remember his name right now. But he’s been putting together film—he’s been trying to string a film together. And he got Steve on it, and Steve is going on about, you know, Steve is interjecting from this political thing, which, you know, it’s okay. I don’t mind it. But you know, Steve and I—he thinks it’s a joke with me, all this reactionary shit I’ve taken up since I got involved with Romanian Interbelica history [Ed. Note: Interwar Period (1918-1939)]. (laughter) I mean, I’m lost. (laughter) I mean, my friends out there-- I got a letter from the guy that actually took me to that John Logan poetry reading in 1965, where Robert Sund told Scott to smoke his joint outside. That guy wrote me an official: Our friendship has ended. Anyway. So I mean, I got all kinds-- I’m still, you know, a hippie kind of guy, but at the same time, I don’t, now I think that the hippie movement was a psychological warfare operation that was spun on our generation by the CIA. And I’ve got some evidence to prove this, and I can help you understand how it was done if you are interested in learning, but most people aren’t. PP: Yes. Well that might be— TB: A whole other story. PP: --a whole other story. I mean, I’m going to cut this off, because this thing is going to run out of juice any minute. But I want to thank you very much. CK: You’re welcome. 24 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 25 Charlie Krafft Edited Transcript – August 21, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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- Paul Hansen interview -- August 1, 2014
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- 2014-08-01
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- Fishtown Collection
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Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown Oral History Program Paul Hansen ATTENTION: © Copyright Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. "Fair use
Show moreWestern Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown Oral History Program Paul Hansen ATTENTION: © Copyright Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. "Fair use" criteria of Section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976 must be followed. The following materials can be used for educational and other noncommercial purposes without the written permission of Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. These materials are not to be used for resale or commercial purposes without written authorization from Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. All materials cited must be attributed to Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. PP: This is Paul Piper. I’m here with my colleague Tamara Belts, and we’re interviewing Paul Hansen at the Rexville store near La Conner. And it’s August 1, 2014. The topic of this oral interview will be about Fishtown. So, Paul, I was just wondering if you could talk about how you came to be at Fishtown, or when it all happened. PH: I’d been there a couple of times, and one day Tom Skinner came up to my bookstore in Bellingham, and we had a really great talk. And about a week later, he moved out and told me I should move into his place there, I should take over his place. So that’s what happened. PP: And this was the Bank bookstore? PH: Yes, it was the Bank bookstore in Bellingham. PP: Did you close the bookstore at that time? PH: No, it went on for, oh it must have been about a year or so. I’m not exactly sure. PP: Okay, but you were—you got out of management at that time, or when— PH: Well, that part of Bellingham was more or less bought out by a wealthy native son who had made a fortune in Texas in cars, I think, and the space was no longer available, you know. PP: Oh. PH: I was more interested in Fishtown by that time anyway, so it was a good solution. 1 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: What had gotten you interested in Fishtown? PH: Well, I think I gave Robert Sund a ride up there once, and briefly met Buster Lee at their farm there. I don’t know when I came up next. That was probably before I even started the bookstore. That would be 19-, maybe spring of 1970, I’m not sure. And then we came down from Bellingham a couple times to see Charlie, somehow. I knew Charlie from Seattle. And then this thing happened with Tom Skinner. PP: Did you have people like Robert doing readings at your store and that sort of thing in Bellingham? PH: No. PP: No, okay. Could you talk a little bit about how you met Charlie and maybe Steve or whoever you had met in Seattle before you moved to Bellingham. PH: Well, Robert was staying with me, and he brought Charlie by, Charlie and Aurora Jellybean by, and she was-- I don’t think she was still-- she wasn’t still with Arthur, but she had been married to Arthur at some time. She was extremely beautiful. And so he brought Charlie by. Maybe Charlie and Aurora came by to see him, so that’s how I met them. PP: And were you going to the University of Washington at that time also, or involved— PH: Probably just barely. PP: Okay. You were doing— PH: Chinese studies. PP: Chinese studies. Okay. Who were you studying with there? PH: Professor Hellmut Wilhelm, whose father Richard translated the Book of Changes, and Hellmut lived in China for 50 years before he came to the US. And not all the time in China, but basically. He only left when the communists forced all the foreigners out in about 1952 or something like that. And Herbert Franke, who would come over as a visiting professor. We became pretty good friends. He was from the University of Munich. And Conze was there, Edward Conze. I studied with him for a couple of years. They were the most notable. Isabella Yen was pretty good. She didn’t do too much like his heavy duty scholarly stuff that some of them did. Father ________, Paul ________, paleontology, paleography—paleography, that’s what it was. And he was really good. But Professor Yen was the grandson (sic) of Yen Fu, who translated some extremely significant philosophical documents, and I believe a lot of Shakespeare, I don’t know how much, into Chinese back in the late 19th century. She had a wonderful kind of grasp of Beijing life, you know, back in those days. She was really a nice lady. So people like that. 2 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: So when you moved to Fishtown then, were you interested in moving into a place that would allow you to concentrate on your work? PH: That was the idea. PP: Could you talk about whether that was successful or not. PH: Well I did some. (laughter) PP: I guess, I guess the reason I brought that up is because it seemed like there was just a lot of difficult kind of day to day work to do there as well, you know, physical (inaudible)— PH: (Inaudible) (laughter) Who told you that? PP: --rebuilding boardwalks— PH: I mean, you could do it if you—I mean, yeah, you had to do the boardwalks, but what’s that, once a year, for two or three days? PP: Oh. PH: You had to get in your wood, one day. You know, and you had to make a little money, I suppose, somehow, to buy kerosene. You could live on about $35 a month. PP: Wow! PH: In those days out there. It was very nice. PP: Could you talk about what an average day might be like out there. PH: No. PP: (laughter) There weren’t any, huh? PH: Probably not, you know. A lot of times the average day was that nothing happened, which is more or less what people wanted. You know, I mean, you might do something of your own, but not much would happen. Say hello to somebody. There weren’t too many of us out there, as you know. PP: How many were there at— PH: Any given time? PP: Yes. 3 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PH: Well there was Charlie and Bo and Gul, his wife at the time, and their one—her daughter, and then later April, Bo and Gul’s daughter, and I was there with Elizabeth, and she stayed in that cabin after I left, and I lived on a boat on the river for a while. So there was Arthur and me and Bo and Charlie and ______ and Sandy and Elizabeth, and sometimes Ivory, that was Charlie’s girlfriend at the time. And over on the other side of the hill, Stephen’s place, where Maggie Wilder lives now, that really-- No, no, I think it still belongs to Marty Chamberlain. PP: Okay. PH: Yes. He’s around. Hey, here comes my sandwich. PP: Shall we take a sandwich break? PH: Yeah, I don’t want to hear people—people hear me eating. (break in recording) TB: Okay, we’re back after our little lunch break there. PP: So the next three questions I kind of had, was interested in how you folks, living in Fishtown, identified with Fishtown. And to articulate that better, did you feel like you were a bunch of people just kind of living alone, doing, you know, your own thing and talking to each other once in a while? Did you feel like you were a community? Did you feel like you were a commune? Could you talk about that. PH: Well, yeah I’d say we felt we were a community, but not a commune. PP: So you— PH: We were all pretty close. People got along for the most part. Yeah, I think they did. Yeah, pretty good. Oh, Hans was there too, you know, Hans Nelson. He was there a lot. He lived in Arthur’s place before Arthur took it over. PP: Okay. PH: I think that was the hand off. I don’t know where Hans went. He ended up on, what’s that island down there in the sound? PP: Oh, out on Vashon. PH: Vashon. PP: Yes, yes. I want to interview him. I have a friend out there who’s an artist who knows him. And his brother, didn’t he come out, Eric? 4 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: Eric. PH: He came out. I don’t think he ever lived there, but he might have at some point. Hans and Charlie were out there pretty early. I’m not sure exactly. You’d have to get that from Charlie. I would say 1969 or something like that, maybe even before. Charlie came out to go to the Skagit and ended up at Fishtown somehow. And Charlie would have been college age in 1964, is that right? Something like that, would have been 18 then. So God knows, he might have come up pretty early. Glenn was here, Glenn and Ally. They had a place in La Conner. I think Dana might have had a-- He did have a place in La Conner. I think he might have had one then, he and Toni Ann and the girls. PP: What was the relationship like with La Conner? Was it, I mean, did you guys go to La Conner a lot or? PH: (Laughter) There wasn’t any other place to go. Well yeah. A lot of the time we had to walk. So if you didn’t really want to go, you probably stayed home. PP: How far was it? PH: 2 ½ miles, I believe. PP: Okay. That must have been kind of hard to walk home after going out and having a few drinks with your friends there. PH: An hour. It was all flat. I mean, as long as you could pick up your feet. (laughter) PP: Yes. PH: No, that really wasn’t a problem. And you know, I think Bo had a car sometimes, and sometimes I did, actually. And Stephen always had a car, when he was there. He kind of had two places. PP: Oh he did? PH: Yeah, yeah. He had some other place where he stayed in Seattle. Maybe a bookstore or something. He ran a bookstore in Fremont till pretty recently. He may still have it. PP: The Id Bookstore, right? PH: No, the Id, that’s way back there. That’s Vietnam times. But he had a bookstore in the Fremont until pretty recently. PP: Okay. You don’t remember the name of it? PH: No, I don’t remember. 5 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: So, you guys both ran bookstores. That’s pretty cool. PH: Yes, he helped me start mine. PP: What was your area—were you interested in primarily Asian or Chinese— PH: You mean in my bookstore? PP: Yes, in the bookstore. PH: Just books. I had some, you know, yeah, I’d pick up a book on China if I thought it was interesting, but no, it was just books. PP: What year did you get to Fishtown, do you remember? PH: 1970? I’ll have to think about that. Tom would probably know. PP: I need to talk to him. PH: Yes, Tom would probably know. Because I think we closed out the bookstore in 1972. This guy kind of terminated our tenancy. But we hadn’t had this place, or I had had this place in Fishtown for a while, months, not years. PP: Was it, when you moved in, pretty livable? PH: Tom had been living there. It was tiny but it was livable. PP: Like one room or— PH: Yes, it was one room at the time. PP: And did you begin doing your work in that one room or did you add a – PH: No, it was fine. PP: --studio or something? PH: Yes, I mean, the bookstore was still around, so it was more of a weekend retreat. Yeah, there was plenty of room to work in there. PP: So did people generally kind of cook their own meals— PH: Yes. 6 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: --and do that sort of thing? PH: Yes. Oh yes. PP: There weren’t kind of more the communal get-togethers— PH: Oh, people would have people over for dinner, something like that. PP: Okay. And did you, again kind of getting back to this identity, did people, at the time anyway, feel that there was a particular type of work that was coming out of Fishtown? PH: Oh I don’t think people went that far. I mean other people may have thought so. Most of us knew something about Oriental art, Oriental philosophies. PP: So that was a common language? PH: In a way. PP: Yeah. I’m pretty fascinated by the fact that most of you all seem to do all different types of art, as far as being into carving, painting and writing… Could you talk about that a little bit. PH: Well I think everybody had their bent before they ever got there. PP: Did people pick things up from other people that were there and try things with them? PH: Hmm. No. I’m sure some, but I don’t think that’s what it was all about somehow. PP: For yourself, could you talk a little bit about what your primary arts were when you came there and what you were working with? PH: Okay. I did get interested in calligraphy, italic calligraphy, through Steve. He was already a master. People like that Sumi style. I think almost everybody did. I don’t know if Bo Miller did any paintings or not. He mostly did carvings, and then his cabin. What did Arthur do? He hadn’t done anything. For a long time, he came to Fishtown and he didn’t do anything. And then he did some carving, rock carving, and stuff like that that people liked. He was a good painter when he was in Seattle. I saw his catalog once. And then when he went—he lived at Glenn and Ally’s on Fir Island. Do you know that kind of a neat house on the Moore Road? It’s Victorian and has a couple of turrets and everything, and Glenn and Ally owned that back in the day. PP: Yes. PH: And there was a little, probably the herdsman’s house, was at the back, and Arthur and Sandy lived there, and he cast bronze. Yeah. He’d do that, some neat stuff. 7 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: So aside from calligraphy, when you first came out there, were you primarily writing and translating? PH: Yeah, I was mostly translating and writing, that’s right. PP: And could you talk a little bit about what you were translating and how that worked. PH: I think at that time, and I had done some translation probably, you know, published in ridiculous little magazines. I think at the time, like when I was at the bookstore, you know I didn’t have to work too hard, so there was time. I think I worked on some modern Buddhist poet named Empty Cloud. And then some others—I started assembling this bunch of translations that was published by Copper Canyon, in 1980, Before Ten Thousand Peaks. I was working on that, and it goes through the dynasties. It’s just sort of a assemblage of poems that I liked, and a fair number of this Buddhist poet, and it’s not a bad little collection. And that’s what I was working on when I came. Then I started doing these ink landscapes and stuff. And then kind of pursued that for a long time, watercolors. And that’s sort of when it started, about the same time as I was working on this manuscript. PP: Okay. Did you feel like there was an identity with kind of the get-back-to-the-land movement? I know— PH: To some degree. PP: And did you grow crops out there or your food or fish or— PH: Well, we did harvest the fields. There was—now Elizabeth had a garden for two or three years, and Bo started a garden, and then somehow the farmer reneged on his permission or something. Anyway, it was a really nice garden, but it wasn’t a success. Yeah, people did grow things. PP: What about fishing in the river? Did you use the river? PH: It’s illegal. I mean, it’s something you really didn’t screw with. A couple of people did, a guy named John, a real character, and he just set up a boat like an Indian boat and went out there and fished, and nobody caught him for a long time. PP: Oh God. That’s funny. PH: John Gable? No, I don’t think-- He was a pretty funny guy, nice guy. PP: Did you feel like the sense of place in Fishtown, the location that you were living in, began to influence the work that you were doing at the time? 8 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PH: Oh I’m sure, absolutely. You couldn’t see any artificial lights from Fishtown itself because Ika Island blocked out Oak Harbor and that over there. And at that time, you’re talking really, this is the early ‘70s, Whidbey Island wasn’t anywhere near as populace as it is now. So for some reason, you really couldn’t-I mean, I’m sure there were little blinky lights or something similar, but you really didn’t notice it. It was awfully nice. And people had been living there for a long, long time. At some point, there were Indians there at-Margaret Lee remembered Indians living down there in that little hollow below where Maggie lives now. And at one point, I think it was Arthur and Dan, this guy they called Singing Dan, who also lived on the river, found an Indian canoe out there, a little like a five-footer or something, you know. They gave it to the tribe. I presume it’s over there somewhere. There’s no telling that it originated there. It could’ve washed in, you know, because that was all very tidal. PP: The shacks themselves that you folks lived in, those weren’t built by the Indians, were they? PH: Fishermen shacks. PP: Fishermen shacks. When do you feel they were built? PH: Well, I think shortly after the war they stopped the kind of fishing that made that viable, that net fishing, gill netting on the river. I think they stopped that, and that’s what those guys did. PP: Oh, so they would’ve been built before the war. PH: Before the war, I would think. Before Charlie lived there, there was this guy, Antoine or Anton, I forgot his last name. He lived out there, an old guy, he died. And there was a guy, Oscar, who had a place in town, but he came out to the river. Oscar Hammer, I think was his name. And he got along with Charlie and with the river rats. I never knew him very well, but he was around out there. PP: But he was an old timer? PH: Old timer, right, one of the old fisherman and so forth. And he had a place-- Now, if you go down to Shit Creek, there’s that shack that Bob Sund lived in, and then there’s a kind of lower. His is kind of up on stilts, and then there’s another place that I think it floats, and it was white. I haven’t been down there for years. Anyway, I think that was Oscar’s. And Dan Stokely bought it from the estate. The county went out there and auctioned all his stuff off. Dan bought it, and then he, I’m sure he sold it, a long time ago. Dan was a young guy. He still lives in town, Dan Stokely. And he was only 18. He was the youngest at the time. I think even Hans was like in his mid 20s. But Hans had lived out there—I don’t know if Hans was there before Charlie or not. I think they came out at the same time. They were really young. PP: That must have been an adventure. PH: I’m sure it was, yes. 9 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: It’s pretty incredible. Were you living in Fishtown when you wrote that book Rimes of a river rat? PH: Uh-huh (positive). PP: Okay. And did you folks do like readings and get-togethers where you would— PH: Yes, we did sometimes, yeah. Oh yeah, we did that for a while. We read once at Western. I don’t know what the occasion was, Charlie and I and Robert, yeah. PP: Where at Western? Do you remember? PH: I’m not sure. Up in the library somewhere, I would suspect, but I’m not sure. PP: I’ve read about get-togethers where you folks would get together and just create work, for hours at a time. Do you remember things like that? PH: Yes. Maybe I never thought much of it was very good. (laughter) Clifford was sort of a master of accidental art. PP: Clifford Burke? PH: Yes. He never lived there, but most of us were close to him in one way or another. He lived in Anacortes, and he did this kind of language and calligraphy he’d invented himself, and he had these big rolls of paper. And at the arts and crafts festival, at least one year, he would hang the end of this roll out of the window, a second story window, and just do this stuff on it and roll it out. He called it yards of art, and he’d sell art. (laughter) So he was good at that. He did that. PP: Now, was he, I mean I might have this story wrong, but was he also responsible for kind of training some of the people at Copper Canyon when they first started up, like Tree Swenson— PH: No, no. PP: No? Okay. PH: They appreciated his art, his skill as a printer, and I believe he did help them some. But I think this was well after they were up and running and they had the letter presses going. But Clifford was a master, you know, so they appreciated what he had to offer. Tree was really the book designer in that. PP: Okay. PH: And Sam was the literary editor. PP: She is at that Hugo House now. 10 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PH: Yes. PP: Yes. And Clifford is in Arizona or New Mexico? PH: New Mexico, I believe. He drops by every once in a while. People see him. PP: And there was a publication that he was, he worked with Bob Rose and some other people on, sleek peek review, or something like that— PH: Oh, that’s Robert’s, Sullivan Sough Review. PP: Sullivan Slough Review. PH: Yes. And there was one issue. And Lorenzo gave him a bunch of money to do another issue, and he drank it up. PP: Robert did? PH: Yes. PP: And they didn’t print that out in Fishtown, did they? PH: No, this was before Fishtown. PP: That was before Fishtown? Oh, okay. PH: The Sullivan Slough Review is like 1969 or something like that. PP: Oh, okay. PH: Yes. You—Steve would know. He’s probably got a copy. Charlie would probably know. Charlie keeps all that stuff. PP: Okay. Yes, I was trying to factor it in. I thought it was, they had done something in Anacortes too— PP: There was a small press in the basement of the Anacortes Public Library that a group of people used. I’m not exactly sure what came out of it, other than broadsides. The person to talk to about that, Bob would know. Bob’s got a really good memory. Bob would know, and Peter would know, Peter Heffelfinger. PP: Yes, I’ve tracked him down. What about Ralph Aeschliman, was he there when you were there? PH: He was out on the river sometimes. 11 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: So a lot of people, it sounds like, kind of came and went. PH: Right. PP: Were there people that lived there more— PH: Well, the people I mentioned. Ralph was there a fair amount. I don’t know where he really-- Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I ended, after I got rid of my boat, I ended up on an island down there, and there was a shack on that, and Ralph had kind of dibs’d it, and so I got it from him. So that’s where he was residing, on this island, sometimes. He’s in Idaho now. He does some kind of acupuncture or something like that. PP: Really? PH: Yes, acupressure, or something like that. PP: He was pretty into astronomy too, wasn’t he? PH: Yes, that’s what he did at New Mexico. He worked for the university and did these paintings of the skies, if I’m not mistaken, now, you know. PP: Yes, that’s pretty incredible. A pretty amazing group of people to all kind of come together like that. Let’s see… Could you talk about, well, let’s see… And maybe you don’t want to, or maybe you want to turn the mic up, but were there any particular hardships or difficulties that you can remember, in terms of living there that happened? PH: I don’t think anybody really went crazy. Charlie would go on these benders, but people didn’t mind too much. He was alright, and now he’s stopped drinking for umpteen zillion years, you know, pretty cool. We’d get these little spats, but it never amounted to anything. You know, no, I don’t think so. I think there’s still a high degree of regard, even more so maybe, after these years. Yeah, we all got along. PP: That’s great. PH: Some differences, but we all got along. PP: Was there a lot of what you’d call political consciousness out there, in terms of— PH: No. PP: --left-wing— 12 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PH: I thought we were all pretty left-winged— PP: Yes. PH: --but that was as far as it went. (laughter) PP: Yes. PH: We did cause a lot of trouble when they cut down the Fishtown woods, if you want to-- It wasn’t really political. It was just, you know, We don’t want you doing that. We dreamed up some legal excuses, but they cut ‘em down anyway. PP: What was the Fishtown woods? PH: The hill, that wooded area between the river and then Fishtown, and then there’s this kind of large wooded tract. It’s mostly grown—it’s grown back, but you can still see where it was cut. This was ’88, so they probably replanted in ’90 or something like that. So it’s about 25 years old. PP: Was that the Forest Service or the land owner or— PH: No, it’s the Chamberlain property. Sheaf is the name now. Chamberlain, that’s Marty and his dad, who’s passed away. And then I guess there must have been a sister or something who married somebody named Sheaf. And the original owner of these properties was this man Haller, H-A-L-L-E-R, who was purged from the Union Army for being a democrat during the Civil War. There was this purge, I think it was after Gettysburg, I’m not positive, and he was one of the guys who got thrown out. So he came out here and started his store on Whidbey Island. I think it was in Coupeville, and a lot of times people would run up these bills and they couldn’t pay ‘em, and nobody had anything except these lands, I don’t know what you call ‘em, grants or what they called them when people took over land from the government. So they ended up with a—they owned most of Dodge Valley. And there’s something over here on this side of, the other side of the river, and there’s some fields up there in Edison too that are owned by this estate. It’s quite extensive. PP: Oh. I guess just a couple more. PH: Sure. PP: Were there generally a lot of visitors or a lot of people that would come out that were—I mean, I guess what I’m getting at, is, you know, obviously you guys had friends who would come up and visit, and that sort of thing. PH: Right, right. 13 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: Was there a kind of curiosity that arose about the place? PH: Very rarely, occasionally, you know. PP: And then, just—any feeling on, kind of reflecting back, on how that part of your life influenced your life really and how it went. PH: Well I guess you never forget it, what you see out there. PP: Do you feel like your art went through a transformation there that was— PH: Oh sure, sure. I sketched and painted out here for years. PP: Do you still do that when you come back? PH: I haven’t. No, no. I might, if I can, when I come back. I’ll probably come back in a year or so for good. PP: Oh really? PH: Yes. TB: I have a couple questions. PH: Sure. PP: Yes. TB: Well I know that Mr. Sund’s passed away and one of the things that we sometimes do in some of our other histories is to ask, since he’s not here to tell us his story, could you tell us a little bit about him, your sense of him, something that you know about him that could add to this body of knowledge? PH: Oh, not really. TB: Okay. And my other question, just listening, I’ve just been hearing Paul talk a lot about it, but I don’t even know where did the name first come from, Fishtown? PH: Oh, it was where the fishermen lived—the guys from Seattle who’d come up here and fish in the summers. TB: So it was well known it was called Fishtown? PH: It was called Fishtown. 14 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TB: Okay. And then, you also made a comment on some question that Paul asked you, that, “that wasn’t what it was about.” So in your thinking, what is Fishtown about? PH: Well, it’s more intangible. But it was a community of artists, but it wasn’t an art community, you know. I think we just tried to—we knew how precious it was, but we tried to keep it from getting to be a kind of institution or brand of any sort. People would always, people would try to do that, in a way. I don’t mean in some nefarious way, but, you know, try to fit you into their preconceptions about what such a place should be. And people just sloughed it off, just mainly people just didn’t pay much attention to it. We just kept on with our lives. And people would come, but then either they were good friends and they’d stay for a couple of weeks, or they were just curious, and they’d have a cup of tea and be gone. TB: And what about river rats? I mean, I think this was on the river so I can see where the term comes from, but is that—were people called, did they call themselves river rats, or where does the term— PH: Well you know, it is an English word, I mean, for people, a certain kind of person, slang you know. Yes, I think we did sometimes say that. Nobody minded. TB: So was it synonymous with living in Fishtown? I guess that’s what I was trying to— PH: Well, like Michael Clough lives over on the South Fork, but you’d have to characterize him as a river rat. TB: Okay. PH: Yes, yes. He bought a piece of property out there, a kind of tax forfeit, back in the 1970s or something. I’m sure it was $800 or something like that. PP: (Inaudible) PH: (Laughter) He’s the only person that owns anything out there, yes. PP: So does Maggie own that? PH: No, that belongs to the, as far as I know, it still belongs to the Chamberlains. PP: Okay. PH: Stephen managed to stay out of these wars with the Sheafs, because the Chamberlains finally— Martin went the (inaudible) cutting, big Martin, and then got into it a little bit, and he said, No, I can’t go along with this anymore. So the Chamberlains were basically out of the cutting. And that left the Sheafs. 15 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: Now, I guess I do have one more question, now that I think about it. PH: Sure. PP: But, did that-- Somebody told me, and I don’t remember who, that after that timber war thing that, (they said the Chamberlains but it doesn’t sound like it), they went and just leveled all the houses. PH: That happened. PP: That happened. And it wasn’t the Chamberlains? Or was it— PH: The Sheafs. That’s not to say the Chamberlains, because they didn’t do it. I think their name is a little more flamboyant. It’s easier for people to remember and stuff. PP: Yes. PH: But no, they got out of it. And yes, that’s what happened. About a year later, they pulled all the buildings down. Mag wouldn’t leave. She had bought Bo Miller’s place or something, broke up with her husband and married this other guy, and she was out there, and she wouldn’t leave. One day I was coming over the ridge from somewhere, coming this way, and there was a pile of possessions on the side of the road, and they’d cleaned out her house and just set them on the side of the road. They had to do something, I mean at a certain point. So they pulled all those places down. PP: When was that, do you remember the year? PH: Well, I’d say about 1980, probably 1980, yeah. PP: Okay. PH: The wars were in 1988. PP: Okay. And when did you leave? PH: Well, I kept my place out on the island there, 1980, ‘81. And then sometimes people would stay in it. I kind of lost interest in it. PP: Had you moved to China already? PH: No, I lived over on the reservation. PP: Okay. When did you move to China and begin— PH: Well, I worked there. I didn’t ever actually really move there. 16 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: Yes. PH: 1999. PP: Oh, okay, okay. Well I have nothing else. I thank you so much for your time. PH: Okay. PP: Is there anything you want to say? PH: No, not particularly. PP: Okay. Great. TB: Thank you. 17 Paul Hansen Edited Transcript – August 1, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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- Sara Amies interview -- December 6, 2016
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- 2016-12-06
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- Fishtown Collection
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Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown Oral History Program Sara Amies ATTENTION: © Copyright Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. "Fair use&
Show moreWestern Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown Oral History Program Sara Amies ATTENTION: © Copyright Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. "Fair use" criteria of Section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976 must be followed. The following materials can be used for educational and other noncommercial purposes without the written permission of Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. These materials are not to be used for resale or commercial purposes without written authorization from Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. All materials cited must be attributed to Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. PP: My name is Paul Piper, and this is Sara Amies? SA: Amies. PP: Amibrves. And I’m interviewing her about her life in Fishtown. It is the 6th of December, and I will begin the interview now. Sara, I’d like to ask you just what some of your impressions from childhood in Fishtown were like? SA: Well, I moved there in January 1974. I had just turned 3 years old, and my mother had brought me from London, where I had been living with my biological father. I remember we came across the country here on the Canadian National Railroad, and I looked out. My first memory of North America is looking out over the plains of Canada, covered in 4 feet of snow, and apparently I was like, Mom, where are all the people? (Laughter) So we came to Fishtown, where Bo, the man who was to become my stepfather, had a cabin, a oneroom cabin with a wood -- cast iron cooking stove for to heat the unit. And he and my mom had a loft above the main living space, and then I had a little room that had been like a pantry, I think, and they put a bed in it and I was small enough to fit in it still. It was, as you know -- (loud air vent-like noise) Do you want to test that, because that does get a little bit loud. Here, we can put it right here. Let’s see, where was I going? No electricity or running water, as you heard from others, I’m sure. I remember it, I mean, there’s kind of a contrast between the two, maybe two maybe more, ways that I remember it. I remember it as being bucolic, and I was very into the stories about fairies and princesses, and I spent a lot of time playing by myself wandering around in the woods and fields and making up stories about all the woodland creatures that I would encounter, in my imagination. And then the other part of it is the kind of memories that you don’t really process as a child, but when you’re an adult and 1 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED you look back on them, they start to make a little bit more sense because they’re really about adults’ interactions. And so my impression of the adult interactions of Fishtown was that there was a fair amount of politics, especially for a small community, maybe because it was a small community. But you know, when people talk about Fishtown now, who weren’t there, they often think of it or describe it as some sort of commune, and I think that probably everyone that you have talked to has been adamant that it was not. People did not -- certainly there was some shared labor, building the boardwalks or helping each other gather firewood or that sort of thing, but that’s, you know, the kind of thing you would do in any small community. But in terms of communal governments or anything like that, there wasn’t any such thing. And I think probably because she was my mother, my mother in my mind was kind of a flash point in that community. My mother and I – PP: And that was Gul. SA: Yes, yes. And she is -- I have been estranged from her for about 9 or 10 years now. She has, in my non-expert opinions, some relatively serious untreated mental health issues that make it difficult for us to have a relationship. But when she lived in Fishtown, she had a fair amount of conflict with people there, you know, either over her perceptions of romantic relationships that Bo was being, I don’t know, I guess there was some infidelity with Steve’s girlfriend at the time or something. And then she just has never been a great respecter of other people’s boundaries, so there was some conflict around that. What else do I remember? PP: Do you think part of that had to do with her being one of the only women in Fishtown? SA: Well, you know, people talk about that, the gender dynamics of Fishtown, and the reality is that she was not one of the only women. Elizabeth was there and – PP: And that’s Elizabeth – SA: Elizabeth Soderberg, who while she was Elizabeth Mabe at the time, she lives in North Carolina on her family farm now. PP: Were these girlfriends – SA: No, no, no. Elizabeth moved out there on her own. PP: Okay. SA: And she lived next door to us. And then, let’s see, Art -- I can’t remember Art – PP: Jorgensen. 2 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SA: -- Jorgensen, thank you, his wife Sandy lived out there in their cabin, which was kind of at the end of the boardwalk. And before that, there was a couple, Hans Nelsen and his girlfriend Joy. Steve Herold had a girlfriend who lived out there with him named Jenny, oh, what was her last name? Korchinsky? PP: Oh, that’s right. SA: And so there -- I never perceived that there were not women out there, and I think the reality is that the men who were out there, there’s a fair degree of chauvinism there, and they don’t tend to think about what their woman’s experience was like or why they were there or what they were doing or much. You know, I think it’s safe to say that many if not all of the men who lived out there, most of whom if not all of whom, were talented artists in their own rights, were pretty self-involved. (Laughter) Even to the exclusion of their intimate personal relationships. And if you haven’t spoken to Elizabeth, I will give you her contact information because she is, I think, has a pretty invaluable perspective on that. She was a painter and a voracious reader. I mean, it was a very intellectual group of people who kind of, you know, I think that there’s this -- the artifacts of history that have been passed down are like the Asparagus Moonlight Group and all these poets and painters and, you know, Steve was a calligrapher, and everybody kind of dabbled in multiple different art genres. But the men came away famous, and the women were either not in formal relationships with men or they were just a lower profile. So it’s always interesting to me that people like Steve and Charlie, and probably Bo also, don’t really have a lot to say about the women who lived there, I suspect because they never have really thought about it (laughter). PP: I think Charlie was the one who said over and over, you need to interview some of the women who were up there. SA: Yes, and you know, Charlie has his moments, and he’s an interesting person who likes to -- I’m a little distrustful in Charlie at this point, given some of his quasi-political stances, but he certainly, you know, was seminal if not the founder of Fishtown, and he’s the one who brought Bo out there. And I appreciate that. And he had a girlfriend when I moved out there as well. He had a girlfriend named Ivy who had a daughter named Luna who was my age, and we would play together. I mean, it was very, you know, typical hippie childhood. I remember playing naked with Luna in the mud for days and days and days, possibly all summer long. (Laughter) PP: Now in retrospect with that, do you feel there was much supervision given you as a child? SA: No. PP: Now when you got there, you were three. SA: Yes. PP: Which was pretty young, so probably the level of supervision would have changed over the years, but were you kind of tossed loose to go wander as you pleased? 3 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SA: Yes, and possibly I am fairly lucky because I had one incident where I fell off the boardwalk and nearly drowned. And Elizabeth heard something and came and got me out. A dog actually -- I mean, the boardwalks are so narrow that a dog passed me by and pushed me off. PP: Wow. SA: I fell off the boardwalk several times (laughter). I remember feeling like I had really grown up when I realized I hadn’t fallen off the boardwalk in about six months (laughter). And it was a long drop. In some places it was 6-8 feet. PP: Right. SA: So yes, I think that a lot of that had to do with my mother who was not a particularly -- I tell people that I was raised by wolves (laughter). She was not a particularly hands-on parent, so, you know, fortunately my sister and I both have turned that to our advantage in a way as adults. But certainly I’m amazed that I came through my childhood relatively unscathed. And I mean, there were some complications in that I had ongoing medical treatments. I was born with a very severe cleft palate and cleft lip and had 25 reconstructive surgeries before the age of 18, and a lot of those happened in Fishtown. And I was supposed to be on a liquid diet. Well that wasn’t really possible out there, so. But then, you know, the interesting thing was when my sister was born, my parents quickly realized that raising an infant out there just was not feasible, and we moved into town. PP: Ah, and you moved into La Conner then. SA: Yes, and that was in the fall of -- my sister was born in April of 1978, and we moved into town that Fall. PP: Okay. And so, how long were you actually out there then as a child? SA: So I lived there from, probably, it was only about four, a little less or more than four years. So if we moved in -- I remember I started second grade in 1978, and we had just moved into town. So if I moved there in January of 1974, that would have been, I guess, four years and change. PP: Okay, so you were probably seven or eight when you entered second grade and – SA: Yes. But then Elizabeth continued to live out there until, I think, I was about 12, and I would go out there and stay with her a lot. PP: Okay. SA: The other thing that I remember doing as a child that just sends shivers up my spine. I had a dinghy that was, you know, it was probably six feet long and four feet wide, and I would go rowing out on the river by myself, with no life jacket. Nobody knew where I was. Then I had taken the dinghy out, and I was nine or ten years old, and I remember when you would go past Steve’s cabin on the river, there was 4 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED this big rock that juts out into the river, and there was a really strong current going around it, and if you can imagine a nine-year-old trying to row around that, it was a little hairy. And I can’t believe that it never registered with anyone that this was a bad idea (laughter). I would go out, you know, there’s all these, on the other side of the river, it’s essentially just mud flats with these channels in them, and I would go rowing through the channels, no idea where I was, what was going on, what time of day it was (laughter). PP: Do you remember getting scared? SA: Oh yes, oh yes. I would get myself -- I was like, this is a bad situation. But you know, it’s amazing what adrenaline can do (laughter). I never told anyone about feeling scared about it. I mean, they may not have known that it was happening. I mean, that’s -- when you were talking about the level of supervision, I could easily at the age of eight -- well, okay. So I moved out of there, I think I was about to turn eight, and I wasn’t rowing at that age, but yes, it was, you know, there was never any -- People talk about a long leash. There was no leash (laughter). PP: No leash. So in retrospect, having no leash, do you feel like that, what part that played in your personality? SA: Oh yes, I know that, I mean, think about me now, I’m a lawyer. I’m all about rules and structure, and, yes, in the absences of structure, I’ve created my own because, yes. PP: In your dinghy, did you -- and what was the other girl’s name who was out there? SA: Luna. PP: Luna. Did you and Luna go out? SA: No. Luna left by the time -- I think Charlie and Ivy broke up probably when I was five or six. PP: Okay. SA: And Luna moved to Seattle, and I don’t have any idea what became of her. But Steve Herold has a son named William, who is now living in L.A. Well William would come on some weekends in the summertime, and he and I played together. We were six months apart in age, and we played together a lot, and are still, I wouldn’t say we’re close friends, but we certainly have the bond of an early childhood friendship. I like to tell people that he’s the father of my children. I don’t have any children, and we used to play house, and my baby dolls would be our children (laughter). PP: Interesting. 5 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SA: Yes, he had, outside of Steve’s cabin, which is on this little knoll, there was a pit that was probably about eight feet around and maybe about six feet deep, and we put boards over it and made a little fort out of it. PP: Fun. SA: Yes, but I’ve always wondered what that pit was for, and was it like an outhouse originally? I mean, you never know, right (laughter)? PP: You never know, with that kind of life. SA: Yeah, but you know, what do I remember about Fishtown? I mean, I remember it was a little bit lonely for a kid, you know, because William would come occasionally and Luna moved away. So I think when I lived out there, I spent a lot of time entertaining myself, both because my parents and the adults around me were not really interested in playing with a kid, and there weren’t many other options, really. So I mean, but at the same time, I look back on those years very fondly. So I mean, I think that it would be described as lonely, but I don’t remember necessarily – PP: Feeling. SA: -- feeling that way at the time. PP: So you mentioned that you created a lot of imaginary characters, a lot of imaginary realms or situations as you were moving through the woods and being in nature. Do you feel that you were just that way as a child, or that your lifestyle of kind of being left alone, being solitary and being out in nature sparked that sort of – SA: I think it sparked it. I mean, because when you think about it, there are a lot of fairy stories that involve getting lost in the woods as a metaphor for various things. And you know, it was extraordinarily beautiful out there. And I remember, I mean, Elizabeth would take me foraging for mushrooms. Even today, I love to go out hunting for morels and chanterelles. They didn’t have any chanterelles out there, but there were lots of morels, and lady’s slipper orchids. There was a tree that Elizabeth would take me to that she called the grandfather tree, and it was, what she told me was that it was a seed tree for much of the forest around it that was second growth and that it was like the sole old growth tree in its neighborhood. And then, what was the other thing? Oh, I had this event. You know, you have a lot of memories of childhood that you don’t know whether they’re real or you dreamed them. For many, many years, I thought that I had dreamed that I was walking through the woods playing by myself one day, and then I came across these flowers that were in the shape of like a pipe, and they were pink. And then I was reading a book about mushrooms, and I saw a picture of, they might even be called Indian pipe mushrooms, and I was like, oh my God, I really did see that. So there was this kind of blurring that maybe everybody experiences, but because I was in this beautiful forest, it was a little more magical feeling. 6 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED What was I going to tell you? Oh, I was going to talk about Margaret Lee, who had the farm that was -I’m not good on directions out there, but it was, I guess it was south of -- so there’s Fishtown, and then there was Gasoline Alley, which was kind of where the summer people had their cabins, and the Lees rented that property to those people, and then they had this big dairy farm up on the hill to the south. Margaret Lee had been born in that house, and she was very old and probably in her early 70s, she and her husband, when I was living there. And Elizabeth and she would visit a lot, and Elizabeth had grown up on a farm, so they had a lot in common. And Elizabeth was kind of my, I think of her now as my surrogate aunt, but in many ways she was very much my mother figure to me. And I would go there and I would get to churn the butter. PP: And you could walk there? SA: Yes, it was about a 20-minute walk, maybe, maybe less than that. But Margaret had stories about when she was a little girl about walking through the woods, and she would see Indian graves in the trees above you. So you know, there’s this kind of, all these different ways that -- the fairy stories I was reading that had these kind of macabre themes that were being reflected in the stories that people around me were telling about that area. And then there was an excavation by an archaeologist, Astrida Onat, who did an excavation of a, I guess it was a summer dwelling site. You might know more about it than I do. PP: Well, Steve talked about it. SA: Yes, but Elizabeth would tell me stories about how, the things that Astrida and her crew of University of Washington students were excavating from the site and how old they were, so, it was, I mean, I guess the point I’m coming away with is that it truly was a mystical place in that you have this history, then this beauty and this isolation, and yet all these kind of ways that people’s lives were interlocking with the land. And of course the people who were living there and painting in Fishtown were very much into landscape painting, and the poems were often about the landscape. And it was a beautiful place. I love that it’s not there anymore and that you can’t even see it anymore. It’s almost like Atlantis (laughter). PP: That is interesting. Now, do you feel that most of the people that were there that were the artists shared in that mystical sort of perception that was – SA: I think they did, I think they did. You know, I think Charlie and maybe Paul and Robert Sund had this metaphor of it being like a monastery in a way, a monastery with women to, you know, help out. PP: The ideal monastery. SA: The ideal monastery, right. It’s just like Henry David Thoreau taking his laundry home for his mom to do (laughter). No, I think that was a large part of the draw of it, is you could really get away from what was going on in the outer world, and the days just slipped into weeks, into months. It was quiet out there. 7 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: Charlie’s talked about that some, and they’ve all in fact talked about, at least everyone I’ve interviewed has talked about this kind of sensibility that really resonated with Chinese Tang dynasty poetry and art, and this kind of interaction with nature and living in nature, and the river in particular as a major force, but none of them have as, I think, beautifully or as articulately as you kind of evoked that sense of magic that was in that area and in the woods in that area. And I’m kind of leading that in a way because I’m -- there was such a protest ultimately over the logging of that area, and I’m wondering if -obviously some of that might have just been people’s environmental ethics at that time – SA: No, it wasn’t about -- I mean, the environmental ethic of it was kind of what got Earth First interested in it, but no, it was very much about protecting that particular stand of woods. PP: That’s what I’m wondering. So that’s really great to have it clarified. SA: Yes, it was -- the path through that forest, I have snapshots of it in my mind, and it was extraordinary, and there was something about it that felt like you might see some a mythical creature slipping away through the forest. No, I think everyone was captured by that, and you had such a sense of the world falling away behind you as you walked out across this field, and then you – PP: So it was kind of a transition. SA: Yes, you had this long field that was probably ¾ of a mile long that you had to walk out across, you know, next to the corn, and then you’d come to the woods. And you could either walk around them to the right or you could walk through them, and, you know, they were dark and deep. And there was one tree that was a fallen tree that had all of its branches still, kind of coming out, and I was afraid of it as a little kid. It was a monster or a spider or something, these legs, and they were covered in moss. There was another tree that had burned down at one point, and you could crawl inside of it. You know, I mean, no, there were -- I’ve walked through a lot of woods in my life since then, and perhaps because that was my first woods and one that I knew intimately, but it was an extraordinary place. PP: That’s great, okay. Good, I’m glad you talked about that. Switching topics a bit. Were there any particular people, aside from you mentioned -- I was thinking, were there any particular men in the community at that time that you had a particular affinity for and that you would go visit and that got down and kind of entered your world? SA: I don’t really remember. That’s a really good question. No one’s ever asked me that before. I don’t, I’m not thinking of anyone. You know, when you asked that question, I think about, I mean, I can just tick them off, you know. Paul was definitely -First of all, I was a chatterbox as a kid, so think about having a six-year-old (chattering voice sounds) incessantly. Paul was no. Art Jorgensen was very prickly and a little bit scary. My dad was, no, he built himself a tower, and I could go up there, but it wasn’t some place where I would, you know, play and hang out with him. But you know, now that you’re mentioning it, and Steve not so much, but I would go 8 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED and visit Charlie. I do remember that. I mean, Charlie was very amiable and sweet, and he was kind of -of course when I was little I had no appreciation of him as an artist. But I do remember him, we would talk. He would go off on these benders where he would get -- I’m sure you’ve heard the story about his love of toluene. He would soak a wool sock in it and roll it up and strap it under his nose and be like that for days. I mean, he was like Keith Richards in that he is a miracle that that man has two brain cells left to rub together, because you know. But when he was not wandering around like a lunatic, he was a very sweet guy, and I do remember going over to his house. I don’t remember like him getting down and playing with me and reading me stories or anything like that, but I think that he would, give me a snack and tolerate my chatter (laughter). Probably the most I was going to get from that group. PP: Okay, interesting. I was leading you a little bit on that, and I was interested if you were ever included in any of the artistic collaborations or if anybody kind of made an effort to work with you artistically as a child while you were there. SA: Elizabeth was a very talented portraitist, and she would often have me model for her, so I’d do that. I’m trying to think. I remember a couple of children’s books that I had that I was flattered that the adults wanted to look at them, because the illustrations were interesting. And I remember that Elizabeth taught me how to use colored pencils, and there was the tedious exercise where I had to color a picture where you would not be able to see the pencil strokes, and, you know, at the age of six that was a big deal (laughter). PP: I can imagine. SA: Yes. So, you know, I would say not particularly. I mean, looking back on it, I have seen a fair number of their written works eventually, and my reaction has always been -- my initial reaction was always surprise because I never had any impression that my presence really registered as -- not really. PP: So, kind of leading that a little bit again, you mentioned that you moved into La Conner when you were turning eight possibly and entered into the second grade, so that would have put you out in Fishtown during the standard years of Kindergarten and first grade. SA: I never went to Kindergarten. PP: Was there any attempt to homeschool you whatsoever? SA: I started first grade – PP: Oh, in La Conner. SA: Yes. PP: So you were commuting. 9 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SA: Yes, I was commuting for first grade, and it was -- that may have been part of what motivated my parents to move into town because getting me to school was difficult. And for the most part I did it myself. You know, my, and part of this again is the raised by wolves comment that I made, is I don’t know any other six-year-olds who got themselves up and got themselves to school by themselves. Elizabeth likes to say that she would run out of her cabin as I was walking by on my way to school and hand me a biscuit because she knew that I hadn’t – PP: No lunch. SA: -- eaten anything. PP: And what about a lunch? Did you pack a – SA: I would get lunch at school, a hot lunch at school. But no, I mean, it was kind of a fend for yourself thing there, and I think that’s just that my mother was not -- it didn’t register with her that that was something that she needed to do, which is just weird, but here we are (laughter). PP: Really. SA: Yes, I had a conversation with a friend of mine, I remember, I was in my 30s before a friend of mine told me that that wasn’t normal. Yes, so, okay. PP: Yes. Unfortunately my wife’s a teacher and she has kids in her class that because of their home situations have to really take control of their own lives. Sometimes a brother and a sister as well, so yes. SA: Yes. PP: So, were there gatherings out there that you can remember where people got together at night to eat and drink and tell stories or play music or any of those sorts of things? SA: I remember, yes, there were -- there was a lot of that. There were, you know, dinners. I remember for a few years, Steve hosted an Easter egg hunt that was, and by a few years, I may mean as few has two. My memory’s a little foggy on it. But yes, he had Easter egg hunts. And then I remember being upset because my parents took the eggs I had gathered and made an egg salad out of them. And I was like, wait a minute. I had a little disconnect there. But – PP: So this would have been, excuse me for interrupting, but – SA: No, fine. PP: -- there weren’t that many children out there, so – SA: No, but I think people came. 10 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: -- did the adults -- Oh, okay. SA: And the adults participated too. PP: Okay. SA: But people came out to visit, and there were, I remember there being a handful of kids out there, but I don’t remember who they were. But there were, I remember, you know, I have very distinct memories of Robert Sund playing his, what was it, was it a zither or? PP: Oh, the autoharp? SA: Autoharp, yes, because I remember I’d never seen one before, and I was like, what’s that? And my dad had a dulcimer that I think he played. And Steve, I want to say, played the fiddle? PP: I know he’s really into accordions right now and he – SA: Yeah, and he probably the accordion back then too, but for whatever reason, I remember someone playing the fiddle. I can’t remember who played the fiddle, but I know somebody played the fiddle. But that did happen. You know, I remember there were parties in the summer on Bald Island, where we’d go and camp out there, and that was fun. And then, I remember one or two years, and this may have been after I moved away, it may not have been. I mean, it was very porous there for a while because I really did love to go back and stay with Elizabeth. But we had a summer camp out for the Perseid meteor shower, and we all had -- we stayed out at Marty Chamberlain’s house, who lived behind the Staphenson farm, and we all had our sleeping bags out in the grass and were watching the meteor shower. That was fun. But yes, there was a fair amount of gatherings in Fishtown that I remember. There would be potlucks and that sort of thing. PP: It sounds like a real fun life for a child in a way. SA: You know, in a lot of ways it really was. I mean, I think that, you know we didn’t have a television. We often didn’t have a radio even. And so it was very much a make your own fun situation. I remember when Elizabeth read to me Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little House in the Big Woods. I related to that so much. There’s a part where she talks about being scared because she can hear the wolves howling. Well, you can hear coyotes howling out on the hill behind Fishtown all the time, and I was convinced after reading that story that they were really wolves. But no, I mean, there are parallels where the life that she describes were really striking. So you know, it was in many ways a really lovely place to be and to grow up, and certainly it, it has played a lot of -- it’s played a major role in my development as a person and the things I care about. PP: Do you – 11 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SA: I mean, I will say that I went to Evergreen, which is a, you know, very, a hippie school of renown, and I always had stories that could blow anybody else out of the water (laughter). PP: Yes. Do you have any thoughts on, and this is kind of a little peripheral, but do you have any thoughts on the fact that so many children nowadays are not having any kind of experience really with the natural world? SA: Well, I have a lot of thoughts on that. I mean, it’s – PP: Because you had an exceptional one. SA: I had an exceptional one, more so than most, absolutely. And I mean, the things that nobody -- I’ll get back to your point in a minute. But the things that people -- you don’t normally hear about are how cold and damp it was, and, you know, you would go away, I mean -- the funny thing for us was, Bo’s family is, he comes from very upper middle class Bellevue people, and the contrast between going to visit them at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and then coming back to life out on the river, for a seven-yearold even, it was really disorienting. But my point being, yes, you know, it was not an easy life, in that, yes, you could go into town and get what you needed. But it was hard getting in and out of there. It was often muddy. It was sometimes flooded and inaccessible. And you know, getting up to go to the bathroom in the night was an ordeal. And it was cold and damp a lot of the time. But to get back to your question, I think the thing that distresses me when I see my friends’ children now are just the fact that they’re like this with their devices, and they’re not interacting with each other. They’re not interacting with the world around them. And yes, I mean, what kind of memory -- I mean, they’re not going to be able to tell stories about their childhood because they don’t have any memories of their childhood, or at least not the richness that you and I had. How are they developing their social skills? I don’t know. I mean, in terms -- I don’t think that you can -- I have never compared my upbringing to anyone else’s, in terms of the experiences it gave me as opposed to what other people get, because the children that I grew up with even, you know, when I moved into town. We moved into a block where it just so happened that like seven kids who were all my age lived, and we all graduated from high school together. But they didn’t have that same experiences that I did. I think it made me really fearless, in terms of, fearless and independent, possibly more than I would like my child to be (laughter). But you know, it was luckily never to my detriment. But I think we lived in -- I do think we lived in a little bit more innocent age then. PP: Did you feel any kind of, I hate to use the word prejudice because that’s pretty harsh, but when you went to school, when you went to first grade, did you feel at all that you were different than the other kids or? SA: Well, I remember my teacher was really frustrated that I was late a lot, and that was because I was either getting myself to school or my mom was bringing me to school and it was just -- So there was that part of it. Not in terms of like, you know, otherwise. The divisions in La Conner were more along between the town kids and the farming kids, as opposed to -- And I think underlying that was the division between the Swinomish kids and the white kids. Which we at the time I didn’t recognize and 12 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED appreciate, but, you know, as I got older I came to understand more about why it was that I had 40 kids in my class in the eighth grade and 28 when I graduated from high school. But that was not about Fishtown. That was just about the dynamics of growing up on an Indian reservation. PP: So you don’t feel that being, in your own words I think, independent and being alone a lot and making up some imaginary life and having lots and lots of adults in your life that that really affected the way that you moved into the 1st or the 2nd grade and were able to function socially in those mixes of kids. SA: Well, I do think that I -- I mean, when you point out that disparity, it is absolutely true, I always got along better with adults than I did with children. And you know, I didn’t real feel like I had come into my own until I was about 30 because of that. I always related better to my teachers than I did to a lot of my classmates. You know, not to sound un-humble, but I also think a lot of that was that I was pretty smart, and a lot of the kids that I went to school with had never left the valley and were never going to leave the valley. And you know, when I was ten, my mom took me on the Orient Express to Istanbul. So you know, I had a much broader experience than a lot of the kids that I grew up with, both in terms of having grown up in Fishtown, which I didn’t necessarily appreciate at the time, but then also because my parents were just very different people than my school friends’ parents. So, I mean there was -- the town was pretty tolerant and I think welcoming of the influence of artists who moved to the valley in the 1970s. I think that Charlie and Steve and maybe even my dad do have some stories about tensions with that, but in terms of what I observed, it seemed to me like the local culture of, you know, the people who had been in the valley for, at that time, 90, close to 100 years, you know, they were welcoming to me at least. I mean, I’d be interested to know what the adults thought of it, you know. I do have this memory of being in the post office in La Conner, as you may know is like right downtown on the main street and one of the main crossroads, and I have this memory of Charlie and my dad, Bo, and probably Paul Hansen, all dressed in brown monks’ robes. And I think they were dropping acid (laughter). And you know, I mean, sure, the guys in the feed caps probably were like, what the hell (laughter). PP: That’s funny. What I heard from a number of people is just that there was initial skepticism for sure, but a lot of that went away when these people demonstrated how hard working they were really. And you know, they had a lot physical work that they had to do just to keep that place going. SA: Yeah, and that may very well be true, and that part of it I was never, it wasn’t really on my radar. PP: Sure. SA: But I know that when we moved into town, it was pretty seamless, at least from my perspective. PP: And then just growing up, did you grow up -- you graduated from high school in La Conner, and then went on to – 13 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SA: Then I went to Evergreen. PP: Evergreen, okay. And then, where did you get your law degree? SA: From Seattle U., but I didn’t get back until a bit later. PP: Okay. SA: I stayed in Olympia for a couple years after I graduated, and I moved up here to Seattle in 1995, and I started law school in 2002. So I got a job in a law office as a receptionist. I had no idea that that would be something that would interest me, but I wanted to get out of Olympia at that time. But you know, I will say one thing, I was in Olympia at the time when the music scene there was really flourishing, and all these bands came out of Olympia at that time. And very much like the experience I had in Fishtown and having grown up in La Conner, I thought that what was going on all around me was completely normal, and not, you know, some kind of Renaissance or flourishing of the arts. I just thought that’s how things were in La Conner or in a college town. And only in 20/20 hindsight do you see that those were two fairly extraordinary moments in time and place. PP: And these were some of the grunge bands or? SA: No, Olympia had a little bit of grunge – PP: There was Sleater-Kinney, right? SA: Well, Sleater-Kinney came along and I went to college with some of those women, and I knew their predecessor bands, and actually I never liked the singer. I couldn’t handle her voice. So I was not a fan of Corin Tucker, who went on to be the front woman for Sleater-Kinney. But there were a lot of other bands. You know, Nirvana was from Aberdeen, and they were playing in our dorms all the time. And there were a number of other bands that Olympia was both a destination and a kind of a nursery for a lot of kind of alternative. And I think that a lot of it was, you know, alternative pop music. But I think a lot more people who had given it a lot more thought than I had, because I was kind of peripheral to that scene as well, because I didn’t appreciate that it was anything particularly special at the time. So I moved -- I left Olympia in 1995, right when Sleater-Kinney was actually getting -- I think that was when they put out their first or second album. And certainly Seattle in the mid-1990s was also a hot music scene, and I went to see a lot of bands at that time. But yes, I got a job in a law office because I wanted to work in an office. That was all I knew. I had been working in a restaurant in Olympia, and I was like, okay, I need to do something different. And I didn’t know what I wanted to do in Evergreen. For all its wonders as an educational institution, it does not teach a lot of practical on the ground skills that let you go out and get a job right away. So I knew I was going to go to grad school at some point, but I didn’t know in what. And then I got this job and I realized 14 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED that I liked lawyers and the structure, and the fact that there’s a rule for everything really appealed to me, because I had had this very independent, unstructured childhood. So it was very comforting to me to be like, oh, there’s a rule for that. Oh, there’s a rule for that too (laughter). PP: That’s fascinating. I could see people having, you know, just very different reactions. One would be your reaction, one would be that they’d continue that kind of life and want or need it. SA: Yes, yes. Well, I mean, this is the funny thing is, you know, my partner is an engineer. And my biological father, [Nigel], he asked me at one point, ‘Why do you have to date an engineer? Why can’t you date a nice artist (laughter)? I was like, You do realize that you are the only father in the history of the world who has ever reversed that. PP: Yes. SA: And I will tell you, because of what I witnessed as a child, I mean, for all the fact that some of these people were immensely talented and successful in terms of their artistic identity, and I’m not a particularly materialistic person, but I do like security, and that is not something that many of those people have even to this day. And so, it was more like, I looked at what they did, and it was more like, oh, well that’s nice, but it’s not going to get you a retirement plan. So you know, my parents, as much as they are proud of me, I think that they also are a little bit disappointed at my bourgeois values (laughter). PP: Oh (inaudible). So, I’ll ask you one more question, and then if you have anything else that I haven’t covered that you want to add, that would be great. And this is kind of relating to what you just said. Do you feel, though, growing up in an atmosphere, an artistic atmosphere with a lot of practicing artists, male and female both, but largely male, that you -- do you now engage in any kind of art yourself that might not be obviously for commercial purposes but might be just, you know, you write poetry in secret or you draw little flowers or – SA: (Laughter) No, I don’t. And that is an interesting, at least to me and for the purpose of our conversation here, that that is an interesting observation that I really don’t. And I actually do have some talent, but it’s not something that I’ve ever been particularly drawn to. It’s something that I like to do -well, let’s put it, I do like to do watercolor, but I don’t find myself with the time I need to do it. It’s something that can get very, you know, time again falls away when you’re really engrossed in your art, and I don’t have a lot of that time at this point in my life. And it’s not something that I’m driven toward. I’ve talked to people who did not have an early exposure to the arts or to alternative lifestyles, and there is this romance about it. And my reaction to it, you know, I have people in my life who want to sell everything and buy a farm in the middle of nowhere and raise goats and be off the grid. And I’m just like, Dude, I’ve been there and done that, and that does not appeal to me. I mean, as I said, I don’t live in like a big mansion in Bellevue or anything, but I think what my childhood gave me was an appreciation for structure and for the modern world that my parents didn’t have when they were my age. They were reacting against that. And you know, my biological father is a world traveler and has lived in 18 different countries. And I don’t leave Seattle very often. As you can tell by the choice of my profession, my reaction, early on was to kind of do what most people do, which is kind of turn away from it in some 15 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED ways. I mean, I appreciate art, and I love to surround myself with art, and I enjoy talking to artists. I have friends who are artists, but it’s not a lifestyle that has ever appealed to me in any way, shape or form, because I saw, these people kind of not able to support themselves doing it. And I think that what I observed is someone like Charlie, it’s true, some people cannot live without making art, and for me it will -- it’s not my form of expression, and it’s not something that I need to do. It’s something I enjoy to kind of turn off my brain, but – PP: Or turn on another part of your brain. SA: Yes, you know, it’s, for me, it’s inhabiting a different space than the one I normally live in, as opposed to someone, who is extremely creative. No, I’ve always been a little bit impatient with flaky artist types. And I’m just like, come on (laughter). I feel like I have, and maybe I feel emboldened in that position because – PP: I think you have some cred. SA: Yes, I’m like -- (laughter), so, yes. I’m trying to think if there’s anything else that I wanted to – PP: Yes, I was thinking, any areas that I didn’t get to cover. SA: I am not -- I mean, I do think my age makes it difficult for me to really talk knowledgably about the dynamics between people because I saw them through the eyes of a seven-year-old or a five-year-old, and you know, and a self-involved one at that. PP: But I think that’s fascinating, you know. Because I just talked to the people who knew that that other world that was going on there. You were inhabiting a different world. SA: I was, and I will say, what we talked about earlier about the forest was a huge, played a huge role in my growing up. You know, frankly part of it, I think, is that I was closer to the ground so I was seeing more. I mean, the one thing that I have taken away and then maintained a lifelong love for is kind of herbal botany and flora and fauna. I know most of the plants that are native to our area because I learned what they were when I was four years old, and really they were meaningful to me as -- they were important landmarks, literally, in my life. There was a particular [madrone] tree that I knew when we were there, we were five minutes away from home. And you know, I mean, the way you would with maybe there’s a strip mall down the street from you where you’re like, you know -- (Laughter) PP: Yes. SA: I remember when my first grade teacher said to me some joke about playing kick the can, and I was like, I don’t play kick the can. I play kick the stick (laughter). So no, I mean I think the one thing I really came away with was a really deep appreciation of the local flora of our area, and that’s something that I feel deeply connected to, because of that experience. PP: Well, I want to thank you very much for your time. 16 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SA: You’re welcome. PP: This has been a really fun interview for me to do because – SA: Well, I’m glad. PP: It’s a very different perspective. SA: (Laughter) PP: Thank you so much. SA: You’re welcome. Well, thank you for taking the time and collecting these stories. I mean, again, I don’t think anyone who lived out there had any appreciation or foresight that this would be viewed later as some extraordinary event. I think there’s a lot of reasons why people went out there, but it is -Elizabeth and I talked about how weird it is to have a museum show about part of your life. I mean, you know, not just the paintings that are hanging on my wall were in that museum, but you know, the milk jug from Margaret that has my mother’s name on it. And just this kind of ephemera of your everyday life is somehow interesting to people as a representation of this. I mean, it really was, it’s an Atlantis. It doesn’t exist anymore, and it’s not re-creatable. PP: Yes. Well I think one of – SA: Did someone tell you about when the Chamberlains raised the rent from $12 a year to $100 a year? That was a big deal. And people were worried about paying it. PP: Sure. Well I think Charlie was paying a dollar a month, wasn’t he? SA: Yes, well that was the $12 a year. PP: The $12 a year, okay, yes. SA: Yes. PP: Yes, math is not my strong suit, as you can tell (laughter). SA: And that’s why I became a lawyer. PP: Yes. We’re hoping, I think, with these oral histories to be able to offer enough kind of diversity so that if someone went in and read or listened to them all, you would have a lot more complete picture, a better picture of what happened out there, than just listening to one, so. SA: Well before you leave, let me give you Elizabeth’s phone number. 17 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PP: I would love that. SA: Because she, I mean, we talked about the women who were out there, and she lived out there alone for a number of years, and she’s not a big woman, but she is very strong for her size. But even so, you know, that was a significant physical endeavor to live out there by yourself. PP: Sure. SA: And she did it for a long, long time. The cabin that she lived in was one of the original fishermen shacks. The one that my dad built, he may have told you, was built out of a salvage hotdog stand on a barge. PP: Oh, he didn’t tell me that. He said it was salvage. SA: Yes, it was originally -- my understanding was that it was a hotdog stand that was on a barge. PP: (Laughter) SA: Which I don’t quite understand, but maybe he had more details on that. But Elizabeth’s cabin was one of the original fishermen shacks, and the floor of it was made of these huge, old, thick planks that were probably 12 inches wide and 30 feet deep and 4 inches thick. PP: Wow. SA: And I recently learned from her that those planks were salvaged from the original North Fork Bridge, that they were the planks that people drove across. PP: No kidding. SA: Yes. PP: They must have been so heavy, I mean, just to put them in. SA: Oh yes. Well I’m sure they put them on – PP: They must have barged them in – SA: --barged them in, yes, I’m positive. There’s no other way that you would’ve gotten them in there. But I mean, they were ancient at that time, I remember. And I think maybe within the last ten years she told me that. And I was like, wow, that like takes it to a whole another level (laughter). PP: Yes. 18 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED SA: But I will give you her number because she is an extraordinary oral historian in her own right. PP: Okay. SA: I think you need to, you need to hear from her. PP: Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. SA: You’re welcome. Thank you for coming down here. PP: Yes, it was my pleasure. The End 19 Sara Amies Edited Transcript – December 6, 2016 Fishtown Oral History Program ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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- 2016-08-21
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- Fishtown Collection
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. You made a wrong assumption there. And we made an assumption when we amend or change the text, because it was handwritten for a long time, and as a paleographer, I can tell you that there’s all thes
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Home Another storm is coming in. That crow up there has trouble heading into it, but has no other place to go: he's living in those trees there on the hill. Clifford Burke
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- Bo Miller Interview -- August 27, 2014
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- 2014-08-27
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Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown Oral History Program Bo Miller ATTENTION: © Copyright Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. "Fair use&q
Show moreWestern Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown Oral History Program Bo Miller ATTENTION: © Copyright Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. "Fair use" criteria of Section 107 of the Copyright Act of 1976 must be followed. The following materials can be used for educational and other noncommercial purposes without the written permission of Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. These materials are not to be used for resale or commercial purposes without written authorization from Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. All materials cited must be attributed to Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections. This interview was conducted by Paul Piper with Bo Miller, on August 27, 2014, in Bellingham, Washington. PP: My name is Paul Piper, and I’m interviewing Bo Miller about Fishtown. The date is August 27, 2014. Bo, I want to begin with just kind of a general question. Could you talk—actually many of these will be general. Could you just talk about what your life was like before Fishtown, and then kind of maybe leading into how you met the people there and initially became involved in living there yourself. BM: Well, I grew up in Bellevue and graduated from Bellevue High School in ’62, and went to the University of Washington to study architecture and construction management, two degrees. I only got one of them. Because I had two majors, I got behind a year, and that put me in a difficult situation with my draft board. In 1966, I joined the ROTC on campus. When I graduated in August of ’68, I was commissioned as an army second lieutenant. I went on active duty in the Spring of 1969 and spent the I spent the first year in Indianapolis, which was then as foreign place as you could get. And the second year I was in Seoul, Korea. While I was in Korea, I took advantage of military flights and met an old friend in India, and decided I wanted to go back. So when I got out of the Army, which is an interesting story that involves Robert Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 1 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Sund, and I looked up a bunch of old friends that were living in a house north of the University District. After two or three days of living there, I sensed there was another person living in the house, and lo and behold, it was Robert Sund. He lived in the basement, and he didn’t really come up to the main floor until maybe 11 at night when he’d build a little fire in the fireplace, and have the night to himself. Robert and I just kind of fell into a friendship, and he said, “Do you want to go out to Shi Shi Beach?” So he and I waded through the mud with a candle, in the Spring of ’71 I guess, and spent the Summer out there, and hung out with two UW grad students—a fellow named Art Greeno, who was working on an organic chemistry Ph.D., and a woman who was studying psychology, teaching psychology at the University, Jenny Beaton. Well, they later got married and hung out with the poets and Trungpa in Boulder and they owned the Family Table Restaurant. They were interesting people that way. In the fall, I left the beach and headed for India. Oh, meanwhile, going through Turkey, I met a woman from Instanbul and I ended up marrying her. But I went on alone and I was living on a rooftop in New Dehli for a while, and Charlie showed up one day. He was looking for something to smoke. So Charlie and I travelled for a couple weeks, hung out with Ram Das and lived on a houseboat in Banaras. So when I got home from India in the Spring of 1972, I looked up some more friends at another house in Seattle. I think it was the first night I was home, and lo and behold, Charlie was there, and he asked if I wanted to go to La Conner? Did I want to go to Fishtown?’ And I said, ‘Well, yeah.’ And so we hopped a Greyhound bus and hitchhiked over to La Conner. Those were the years of the 1890s Tavern, which was sort of like a Star Wars bar. And I think for a brief flicker of time, that might have been the most hippest place on the West Coast. It was a pretty wild and crazy scene, and it suited me just fine. I lived in Charlie’s studio for part of the summer, and then he said, ‘Well, you’ve got to get your own place,’ and I did. Robert took me out to Shi Shi, and Charlie took me to Fishtown, and those were real diversions of my life. I was kind of headed toward marrying—becoming an architect and living down in Washington Park in Seattle or something, a completely different scene that didn’t have any particular lure for me, so I guess when Charlie kind of said, ‘Let’s go,’ that sounded fine. I think probably because of the two years in the Army and the travelling, I took a year to go around the world, I was definitely headed a different way. I wasn’t doing what my parents wanted me to do. And they were very disappointed in me living in Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 2 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Fishtown, living in a shack, when, you know, they were upwardly mobile, upper middle class, and this was kind of, I think, unthinkable for them, that this is where I would end up, their only son and that. PP: Had you been in touch with Ibsen Nelsen at that time? BM: I had. I had worked for Ibsen for a little while, not in the architectural side but in the putting up a lattice ceiling in a church he did out in the Greek row area. I didn’t get in on any of the great parties and the social cultural scene that was around their house on Capitol Hill. I did hang out there a little bit much later, but was not involved in the great stories with Lorenzo Milam and General Franco. But yeah, I was kind of a pal of Ibsen’s. He was trying to kind of get me to stick around and go to work in his office downtown, which all my architecture buddies had been doing. They all apprenticed to somebody, and that was my opportunity, but I was apprenticing with Charlie (chuckles) so I didn’t. I’m not much of a city person, so going back to Seattle, and leaving what— I had just found this whole new world—there was so many people that came into the Skagit Valley in the early ‘70s from all over. A lot of Midwest folks and some Boston and New York, Brooklyn people, and a few California people. And a lot of us are still here it seems. And we’re all old now, but it was a flourishing time. I think a lot people left the cities in the late sixties, early seventies, I mean, going upcountry. And everybody seemed to be going back to the country, so there was nothing in the city for me. I’d had a fair enough time there—through the ‘60s when I was at the university. But after that, it -- And I’d grown up in Bellevue, so I’d kind of seen it. I sometimes wonder about what if I had gone to work for Ibsen, married well and lived in Washington Park. PP: Now you were a builder already, or at least— BM: I was handy. PP: You were handy. BM: Yeah. I used to build forts and stuff when I was a kid. I grew up in Bellevue in the ‘50s, and there was always lumber and nails around the housing developments, and I’d help myself to the scraps and pick the nails off the floor. And I’ve always been a builder. I still am. I like to work with my hands and kind of figure things out that way, but obviously-- Well, I even was a contractor for a while and thought Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 3 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections I’d-- I always wanted to design and build, but that’s a couple of too many hats, and I’m not much of a businessman. PP: When you went to Fishtown, did you see your role as getting more involved in kind of rehabilitating places or keeping the boardwalk up, that sort of thing? BM: Well, that’s what I get credited with. I built my cabin and studio and maintained boardwalks for my own use, if for no one else’s. My Turkish woman, Gul, came to live with me, with her two-year-old daughter, Sara, so yeah, I kept the boardwalks up. So I guess I had that role. But I didn’t beautify Fishtown or anything. I mean, I took care of my own stuff. Charlie was the successful artist. And Paul had success with his Chinese translations and had studied with a Chinese Dharma master in California. And Steve had the Id Bookstore, and was a calligrapher, a noted calligrapher that studied at Reed with Lloyd Reynolds and sort of revived calligraphy. So I’m around these guys that had a notch or two on their belts already, and I was trying to figure where I fit in, and sculpting’s where I fit in, wood sculpting. That’s where my interest was, and much of my time in Fishtown was sculpting. Then another child came along, and I moved—we all left Fishtown, so I had to find a way of making some money, so I got back into architecture. PP: What year did you leave? Do you remember? BM: ’78. PP: ’78. BM: The fall of ’78 was when I -- the family had left for town six months before. I didn’t get along with my wife too well, but yeah, I finally moved to town as well. Then I let other people use the cabin and eventually sold it. But it was kind of hard giving it up because there were a lot of extraordinary experiences. Saturday mornings I’d leave La Conner and go back out to the river and reminisce about what a Saturday morning might have been like back then. Those were bittersweet years. Not that I really wanted to still be there, but it was such an idyllic Huck Finn grad school for me. Being around painters and Chinese poetry and just Charlie and Steve, great conversations. Whatever you wanted to Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 4 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections talk about. So when we had the Fishtown show back in 2010, it dawned on me that for me it had been a graduate school in the arts. It was a real blessing for me. PP: You talk about it as being a graduate school for the arts and getting involved in sculpting. Had you been inclined to do anything artistic really before that, other than, you were building? Or was the exposure to these people, did it just kind of open up some— BM: I think a little of both. No, I hadn’t thought too much about art previously. I took art in high school, and studied watercolor with Alden Mason at University of Washington. Hanging out with Robert at Shi Shi, because he was painting and writing poetry, I got a real exposure. And I saw books come out of those times. Robert knew his art, he was a mentor for me. We had a falling out at a certain point, as many people did with Robert. Robert educated me about what art is and what it might mean and how I might-- He didn’t teach me how I might fit in, but I could kind of see what it was all about. And the people he knew. He knew everybody in Seattle, the Hatches and the Haubergs, all the big names. He knew them and he sold to them. He was giving readings at the Seattle Art Museum. He was the biggest poet in the state then. That’s what’s kind of interesting about the people I met. They were very good at what they did. Robert was the undesignated poet laureate of the state. He taught poetry in the schools and for communities. He just lived it. He lived the life of a poet, and it wasn’t easy. There was no money in it. But these people I met were my connection to art history, to the teachings of Edward Conze, Lloyd Reynolds and Theodore Roethke. And Morris Graves, Tobey, and Callahan though I never met him. I never met Graves either. But one of the benefits of being an artist in LaConner was being around Guy Anderson. I was a light friend of Guy’s. His essence was painting and art, piano playing. I’d run into him at the post office, and he’d regale me about an obscure piano piece that he’s listening to or working on. So there was always this kind of stimulation of something bigger around. So I think I was blessed with what turned out to be my grad school. Maybe that’s what grad school did. Opened everything up. You know, it was a blessing that way, for the rest of my life. The spirituality of the people, the Buddhism that runs through it, although Charlie’s a little more on the Hindu side. Kumbh Mela every 12 years, and he’s done that since we were in India. Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 5 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections PP: Could you just kind of imagine back and talk about what an average day in Fishtown would be like from the minute you got up to the minute you went to bed? BM: Well, when I first got there, it was all men, and no children. But then I had a wife and a child, and that changed things. And then soon everyone else had a woman there, and that changed—I’m kind of digressing here, but it was interesting because before Gul came, if I wanted to know what Charlie was doing, I would go over to his house. Once the women were there, I’d ask Gul, because she had talked to Ivory, and that would be the information. But part of it was waking up and maybe hearing the neighbor chopping wood for the morning fire for coffee. So sometimes we’d go and have coffee, go visit, have a smoke, coffee, and talk, and then, I think we were all fairly diligent about getting on with whatever it is we did. And, you know, leave Charlie to paint, and Paul to do his books, and Steve always had something going. But you couldn’t call Fishtown a commune. It was communal, but it wasn’t a commune, and Charlie was the mayor, but that’s tongue in cheek, but real at the same time. I mean, it was kind of his scene, in a way, so he got always the last word. So I would probably get a little breakfast going. We all had our Corona mills and we’d grind some corn and make some pancakes and coffee, and then I’d probably go, depending on the season, to my studio, it was above a wood shed that I built, and get a fire going there. Probably just try to find the end of a string from the day before and kind of follow it. There might be some time in the boat on the river, maybe look for some firewood or maybe going down, going down visiting Robert. We did visit and hang out quite a bit. We had kind of a group. We had, I don’t know, maybe the other guys talked about this, poetry nights, where we’d get together in someone’s cabin and have dinner and put a subject in the hat, a piece of paper, and draw it out, and then write poetry on the subject. And that would become an interesting evening. Lots of marijuana in the mix there. I remember one morning when Gul was there, Charlie came over with his girlfriend, Ivory, and he had some bones and a hide over his head, and he was stoned on LSD. But his mission was to empty the outhouse, which was a big bucket, and that’s kind of what we did when Charlie was stoned on acid. We cleaned up the outhouse. (laughs) Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 6 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Once the women were there, we would have group dinners. There was an old net shed we called the Temple. It was a room a little bigger than this, and the front opened up right over the river, and swallows flew in and out. That’s where I lived when Charlie told me I had to find my own place. And we’d have group dinners. And on the river there was a lot of reading. Reading and sculpting and just puttering around with our hands, hands and mind and eye. It’s kind of what I do. You would watch the river go by, or the tides swirl in, and of course the birds. Kind of a certain simplicity, a rustic simplicity. We were a long walk through the woods away from the road, so you really get to think just locally, absolutely locally, just a 1/4 mile radius -- that was your whole day. We did listen to KRAB radio. KRAB was big in that time, and lots of great programming. And we all had our radios, Charlie in particular had a nice Blaupunkt. And we were always interested in what the other person was reading. And a good murder mystery or something. Paul had these Chinese murder mysteries. And there again, there was a lot reading because, well, Paul and Steve had had bookstores, so they had great libraries. Charlie spent gobs of time reading and had pretty credible, what would you call it, spiritual—a more mystical library. So a lot of time reading out there too, always reading. So then around the morning fire and the woodstove, a book and a cup of coffee. PP: You’d mentioned the women and kind of the impact of when they came, and it certainly seemed like the early days were really male dominated out there. BM: Totally. PP: I’ve heard the name Aurora Jellybean. I haven’t heard of—and I’d like to talk more about her, if you could. But I haven’t heard the specific names of a lot of the other women. Did they become involved in the kind of artistic genesis that was going on there as well? BM: Well, you mentioned Aurora Jellybean. She was an artist, through and through, true and true. She lived it, walked the walk, did it. No, none of the Fishtown women were artists in that sense. Paul’s significant other, Elizabeth, was a real scholar. She used to read Proust and Finnegans Wake, and painted, kind of dabbled in it. She never showed her work. My wife Gul read a lot. Oh, she was kind of psychic and an incredible cook, a genius cook. That might have been her art form. Charlie was with this Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 7 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections woman named Ivory, who after they split up, was with a filmmaker in Seattle, and I think they went to Bhutan or Nepal, and did some really significant documentary work, and he was pretty big time, and then they were pretty big time, so she certainly—she certainly had an artistic bent. Interestingly, there’s another woman, Jennifer Clarke. I don’t know if you’ve heard of her. PP: No. BM: She came by Fishtown with Charlie.. She was finishing up a Ph.D. on the artistic mind, and she wanted to interview some artists (chuckles), and here she shows up with Charlie, and I thought, Whoa, that’s a handful. She’s been a long consort with Paul, still to this day. And she’s a pretty brilliant psychologist, understands art I think, has really assisted Paul in getting his paintings together, getting them photographed. There might be a book. So she’s artistic in that way. Steve’s wife, Jan Korchinsky, she was a seamstress, but that would be more of a craft I think. So it’s not that none of these women—none of them were full blown artists like Aurora Jellybean, but Aurora Jellybean did not live in Fishtown. PP: Oh, she didn’t? BM: No, she didn’t. There’s some rumor that she did, and she may have been out there before my time, but it would have only been for a visit. But the irony is that about halfway through our stay in Fishtown, Art Jorgensen came to live in Fishtown, and they had been married. And Aurora Jellybean, she and I studied architecture together, our first year in design at the UW. I think she got out that year and went different directions, so I’ve known Virginia Shaw since, I think, 1963. PP: And Virginia Shaw is Aurora Jellybean? BM: Yeah, that’s Aurora Jellybean, yeah. And she has passed. Kind of a tragic life. She just had some incredible, bizarre stories. But, I mean, she was a brilliant artist and, you know, kind of a wonderful, wonderful person. And Art Jorgensen was a brilliant artist as well. We were all kind of antiauthoritarian and love to push edges a little bit. Charlie really knew how to push edges. Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 8 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections PP: Could you mention a specific example of that? It doesn’t have to be Charlie, but just something that you— BM: I think it was 1975. Seattle Art Museum was doing a Skagit Valley show at their pavilion at Seattle Center. We thought our attendance should include some street theatre so we put on Indian robes, dropped some mescaline and Charlie grabbed a chain saw, and we headed to Seattle intent on sawing one of his paintings in half. That never happened but Robert did read his poem about the lizard-like feet of a parrot he likened to one of Seattle’s greatest art patrons So yeah, you asked an example of pushing. I guess it would be the psychedelics. Sitting around at a table with Steve Herold most of the night, just talking and seeing where things went. Really just stretching conversations. I think the psychedelic drugs kind of clarified and focused maybe the brilliance of at least Paul and Steve and Charlie, of their minds and the places they could go. And Charlie’s paintings. When Charlie wasn’t there, I liked to let myself into his cabin and just sit in his studio with the paintings, because they were, well they were from somewhere else. He had a pen and ink, and it was a perfect circle that he’d drawn freehand. I mean, you kind of look at that stuff, and you go, ‘Whoa, that’s unexplainable.’ Paul could get places with his Chinese and the translations and that were for me, unfathomable. And he’s good friends with Red Pine and Bill Porter, over in Port Townsend. So that’s how things were kind of pushed too. And kind of through the psychedelic scholarliness of the group. When I met Hans, he and Joy were living together in the Nelson mansion up on Belmont in Seattle. They lived in his big bedroom up there, and he was, I think, a junior in high school, and he might have even been a year younger. I mean, that was a new one for me. He’s not only living with his girlfriend, but it’s in his parents’ house, and it’s absolutely cool with everybody. And I think the parties were famous for pushing things to the limit. One night Ibsen and Lorenzo Milam called General Franco in Spain PP: No way. BM: And they got through to his secretary, but Franco was unavailable. I guess the next morning they got a call back from his office. I don’t know if Franco was on the phone, but his office called back, and Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 9 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Ibsen couldn’t quite remember making the phone call. But it was stuff like that Hans was raised around. And Charlie and Robert and Steve spent a lot of time up there. PP: A quick question about, you know you’ve mentioned Callahan and Tobey, Morris Graves and Guy Anderson. Was there any affiliation with Fishtown for any of them? Did they come down there and visit? BM: No, they were long gone by then. Morris and Guy had repurposed a burnt-out house in LaConner in the 1930s. PP: Oh they were? BM: And Guy never came out that I knew about. But the early ‘70s were—it was all kind of palsy-walsy around Guy’s place. Chanel Nine came up once and did some filming. It would be interesting to see that. And Robert Sund was there, and it was all the local artists just hanging around. PP: I don’t know how you get that kind of footage but I’ll check into it, but— BM: No, I have no idea if it’s still around but it was part of an archive of the next generation, and Guy kind of giving his blessing. Fishtown’s not only us that were in Fishtown. It was the art scene in the valley, in the western part of the Skagit Valley, because there were a lot of other people in the show in 2010, Aurora Jellybean for example, that were basically Fishtown. Fishtown was a place but it also was a state of mind. We all had this state of mind and were – it was a commonality. This large group came to the Skagit Valley in the early 70s, and Fishtown kind of distilled what was happening. It seemed most of the newcomers had an artistic sensibility, whether they were carpenters or boatwrights or whatever. It was an interesting and large group. I have no idea how many people that might have been, a hundred, a hundred and fifty—well, say a hundred. And we all partied together, at the 1890 again, on the weekends; it was just crazy hijinks. And that went on through the mid ‘70s. But I’ve been reading some stuff on the history of the ‘70s, because I kind of missed it, being out there. And it was really a watershed politically and socially. Things went—the music went. Everything kind of went through a change in the mid ‘70s, and they got kind of serious. I think that’s when New Wave, punk, disco, all Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 10 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections came out, and I think everything kind of started going that way, kind of just spreading out. Political changes, the idealism, the hippie credo gone. It was a harder world and there were other fish to fry I guess. PP: You mentioned that Charlie was mayor, you know, tongue in cheek, but really too. But was there any kind of overlying or underlying political feel to Fishtown? BM: No. I remember sitting out on the boardwalk in front of Hans Nelsen’s, listening to Nixon’s resignation speech, but that—no. No, I don’t think so. I mean, everybody was throwing their hands up about politics at that point in time. I’ve been a social activist, but I’m not political. I basically don’t believe much in the system as practiced. What’s there to believe in, really? I mean, I believe in it ideally, but the more I read the more I know from the get-go that “We the people” was the 10% of the white men, plantation owners and slave owners. That’s who “We the people” were in the documents. No, we were not political. We were kind of art activists maybe, but not political activists. Steve tells some stories about himself during the political days. The Id Bookstore, I think, was a focal point for— well certainly for the University, but maybe the Seattle political scene. Well the political scene in Seattle in the late ‘60s was at the University, and the Red Robin Tavern, The Blue Moon and the Century Tavern were gathering points, and God, they were gathering points. I got a tremendous education hanging out at the Red Robin, basically at 20-21 years, just all the who’s who, Paul Dorpat, Tom Gunn, Alfredo, everybody hung out there, and that’s the way it was back then. But boy, after the mid- ‘70s, everybody kind of went their own way. And maybe that’s part of what this whole Fishtown thing is. It’s of a time when we were more of a like mind, and we tended to spend more time with each other, I think. And kind of sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll, in a loving, pot smoking way, I guess. Fishtown in ’78, ’79, ’80, there was a bitter melancholy for, and I still get it for the earlier days that seemed better. I think in some sense that maybe they were better, in the sense that society, even though Nixon was getting impeached, or because of it, we all had some sense of hope. And it was real, before punk came in and everybody seemed to develop an edge, and more individualized ego, or something. Everything seems to be political today. Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 11 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections PP: I wanted to touch on a topic that we already covered a little bit, and that was the women that were down there when you would have poetry nights or something like that. BM: Yeah. PP: Were the women also—did they also come and were involved, or was that more of just the four or five of you? BM: Five or six, maybe. Ralph Aeschliman and Robert would participate there. I remember one at our cabin -- I think Gul must have done the cooking. She was pretty good with words too. Elizabeth would come, Paul’s girlfriend. I can’t say no, but it’s not a big yes either. I think Robert had a handful of the poems that we’d written, and I thought Steve might have some, but I don’t think there’s any women’s work in there, that I could say that they necessarily participated in the writing or art. They were not necessarily into the kind of crazy “wisdom” lifestyle that we were. That was sort of the early— the early Fishtown was sort of Chinese hermit monk, and they weren’t buying it. I don’t know if I’ve ever met a woman who maybe is into that. PP: I don’t really have anything else to ask. Is there anything I didn’t touch on that you feel, you know, would be important to have down, anything else you may have? BM: I guess I’m interested in what, where this is going. Does this go into a reference file someplace? You’re not putting a book together or anything like that? PP: No, no. BM: Somebody else might use what you have. PP: Yeah. I think, and I can talk to you more about this as we deal with the details of the consent form, but it’s more came out of my interest and my colleague, Beth Joffrion. We are interested in art and Skagit art, and some Bellingham art. And I think my feeling was, when I encountered the Fishtown work, that it was really authentic work. It was very good. And that’s just been reified by different people I’ve talked to about this. And so, and no one was really actively collecting, you know, the work or the ephemera and archives that went along with it. Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 12 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections BM: Yeah, yeah. PP: And that Western could be potentially in a perfect place to do that because it’s local for us. BM: The Northwest art has not been looked at for a generation. PP: Yeah. I’ll talk to you more about the details afterwards. PP: Well, I want to thank you very much for taking the time to drive up here and to participate in this, and it was great to meet you. BM: Well, I was glad to do it, and thank you for being interested and providing a service that needs to be done, for documenting this. I mean, I think we’re rushing into the future so fast, we don’t seem to be looking back to and see what we’ve accomplished. Slater said a couple of things, Bill Slater, years ago. He was a teacher, taught painting at Hunter College. He said that he feels sorry for younger artists today because they have not studied or put in their time. They haven’t done the book work, they haven’t done the museum work, they haven’t done the hanging around work. So they don’t have a pool or a reservoir to draw from. And the other thing he said is “Everything’s been done.” PP: OK. I want to end the interview off at this point. BM: Yeah, yeah. PP: Because we can go on talking afterwards, but again, I want to thank you very much for this. BM: Thank you, Paul. Thank you for your service and your interest. (End of audio) Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 13 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections Bo Miller Edited Transcript -- August 27, 2014 Fishtown Oral History Collection 14 ©Western Washington University Libraries Special Collections
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